The Emissary
by Imorgen
Summary: Pulled from one universe to the next, a woman attempts to make an ordinary life for herself in the midst of extraordinary circumstances.  The Bad Wolf has other plans for her, however.  Jack/OC with a twist
1. Accidental Travelers

Author's notes - Hi, if you're just now reading this story, welcome. I posted it a few months ago, and have decided to replace the first chapter with one that actually has chapter breaks. This was both the first story I had written in almost twenty years and the first one I posted on this site , so it's a little rough in both content and formatting.

Well, maybe more than a little rough. The first twenty-six chapters are very bulky. I started this story to see if I still enjoyed the process of writing, and while it follows a narrative, the first third was written as little more than separate character studies, without regard to how much it might bore the reader. Yes, I was attempting to weave an OC into the Doctor's life, but, really, that could have been done much more efficiently. At this point I was finding my sea legs and had no intention of letting The Emissary see the light of day.

So, let the reader beware. While it's difficult to critique your own work, I do think it gets better as it goes along. And, yes, you have my permission to skim.

Of course I don't own Doctor Who or any of its characters. The rating is a strong T due to language (Owen Harper), adult content (including a sexual assault) and some edited sex scenes. (There's a M version on teaspoon, but I did change a few things, most notably Martha's characterization; you can choose.) Torchwood plays a big role in this story, but I don't consider it a crossover. Jack first appears when he is traveling with the Doctor, and if you aren't familiar with Torchwood, most of it is explained.

Still reading? Really? I sincerely hope you enjoy it. Feedback is always welcome and I answer just about every review. Thanks!

* * *

><p>"You think Mom's catching up, yet?" Susan asked her brother Matthew as the two hiked their way up Eagle Peak.<p>

"I think she's still sitting on that rock, drinking water, admiring the wildflowers and pretending that she doesn't really need a break. I don't think she's used to the altitude anymore. Maybe we should wait for her." Matthew replied knowingly as he stepped over a small stream.

"Oh, come on, Matthew, she's not that bad. Besides, you took the pack."

Susan argued out of habit, hating that he was probably right. After living at sea level for almost a year, their mother wasn't used to the altitude. They weren't either, but it didn't seem to affect them quite as much.

"Then why'd you ask?" Arguing was a favorite past-time of theirs. It proved to everyone that although they were twins, they definitely did not share the same opinions. Looking up at the sky, he added, "Maybe we should turn around and find her. The sky is turning black."

"What d'ya mean? The weather's supposed to be great this morning."

Susan finished weakly, as she too looked at the sky. It was not merely turning black; it had turned the color of pitch, and she felt like the world was spinning backwards. The look of terror on her brother's face was the last thing she saw for a very long while.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Seven hours, Rose! Two to get down this god-forsaken mountain, one to find that chicken place you saw and three to get here!" Jack Harkness groused as he walked up the narrow trail.

"That's six, Jack. Got altitude sickness, or something? Besides, it was worth it. That wasn't just some chicken place; that was KFC. Finger-lickin' good, that was."

"It'll be over seven hours by the time we get back. Besides, I can think of better excuses for licking your fingers than eating grease." Grinning, he opted to ignore the comment about altitude sickness.

She gave him a playful push. "Captain! Best not let the Doctor hear that or you'll end up sleeping outside tonight. Besides, you did not lick my fingers. I did that all by myself, thank you."

Resisting the impulse to make yet another suggestive comment, he asked," And why did the TARDIS end up perched atop, what do the locals call this place again?"

"Bad Wolf Summit. And, I don't know. That's why the Doctor is tinkering with the TARDIS. Said something about her being pulled here and stuck, but he can't figure out how. Guess it must be something complicated, or he'd be looking for us by now." As she finished answering, her foot rolled over a loose stone and she went down in a heap.

"You okay, Rose?" he asked as he pulled her to her feet.

"Nothing injured 'cept my pride. It's weird, though. Did you feel that? Almost like everything was spinning for just a sec."

Worried, the Captain held her elbow more firmly. "Are you dizzy? Should have thought about altitude sickness before, but I didn't think. Need to rest for a while?"

"Nah, really, Jack, I'm fine. Just want to get back to the TARDIS, give the Doctor his chicken and take a long bath. Think I've got dust up my nose! It's really dry and windy up here!"

They continued quickly up the narrow trail, Jack walking behind Rose to make sure that she was alright. Sometimes, she was too stubborn for her own good. He knew her zeal to prove herself would get her in trouble one day.

They had crossed a small stream, and were about three-quarters the way to the summit when they saw two bodies lying across the trail. Running ahead of Jack, Rose reached a dark-haired teenage boy, who was wearing hiking boots, cargo pants, green t-shirt and a backpack. She was very relieved to see that he was breathing. Jack quickly reached the other, a similarly dressed teen-aged girl who had long, auburn hair, and found that she was also breathing. Neither had any obvious injuries, but both were unconscious.

"What's wrong with them? Altitude sickness?" Rose deferred to the former Time Agent's greater experience.

"I don't think so. It wouldn't have affected both of them at the same time. Besides, the locals must be acclimatized. I'd say lightning strike, but there's not a cloud in the sky. Could have been an animal. No injuries, though. I don't think we should take a chance moving them." He stared off into the bushes, his body tense and alert.

"I'll go get the Doctor. If they haven't regained consciousness by the time we get back, at least he'll be able to help carry them, yeah?"

He slowly nodded as he tried to guess which was safer: Rose running, alone, back to the Doctor and the TARDIS, or Rose staying with two unconscious kids waiting for him and the Doctor to return. He wished that he had taken his sonic blaster so he could give it to her. Teenagers did not simply fall unconscious on a hike. She took his nod as a yes, and started running up the path. Jack, for his part, found a very heavy stick, put his back against a large rock and began to wait.

The Doctor was checking the lubrication of the time rotor for the fifth time in six hours. There was plenty of grease, so to speak, and he was therefore becoming quite frustrated. The TARDIS simply refused to move, after having been pulled here abruptly from Vortex. It was as if she had got her parking brake stuck, although that still didn't explain how they had arrived here in the first place. He idly wondered if taking the mallet to the console would help, but decided that just might make the old girl more stubborn.

He finally gave up trying to find out what was wrong with his ship. The TARDIS had been stubborn before, and there was usually a good reason. He was thinking that it was best just to wait and find out why she was staying here, when he heard the sound of a key scraping in the lock. Crossing his arms, he prepared to give his companions a lecture about timeliness when Rose burst into the console room, gasping for air.

"Rose!" Grabbing her by the waist, he set her on the jump seat in one swift motion.

Taking a few deep breaths, she gasped out, "Jack needs help. Found h- hurt."

"The Captain's hurt?" he asked sharply as she continued to gasp for air.

Seeing her shake her head, he held her shoulders. "Rose, listen to me, take some slow breaths. Running at 7,000 feet's not good for you unless you're used to it. I'm going to get you some water, and after you can breathe again, you can tell me what's wrong."

Nodding, Rose watched him leave. Her head ached, and her stomach felt slightly queasy, but she was breathing more evenly by the time the Doctor returned with a glass of water.

"That better?" he asked as she drank the entire glass in one long gulp.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Although, why's the water taste all funny?"

"Added an electrolytic solution. It's very easy to get dehydrated running pell-mell up a hill at this altitude, Rose Tyler."

"I was running because Jack and I found two hikers unconscious on the trail. Don't know what's wrong with them, so he didn't want to try moving them. We were hoping you could land the TARDIS nearby. That is, if you've figured out how to get the TARDIS moving?"

"Genius, me," he stated smugly. "Still don't understand how we were pulled out of the Vortex, but I do know that the TARDIS isn't going anywhere right now simply because she's being stubborn. I've done everything I can think of short of whacking her with the mallet, and she still refuses to move."

"So, you going to whack her with the mallet now?"

"Nah, thought I'd just ask her politely." And with a flick of a switch, the TARDIS began to dematerialize.

Jack had been waiting for forty-seven minutes. Unfortunately, the two hikers showed no signs of regaining consciousness, but on the plus side, no wild animals appeared out of the bushes to attack them. He had run a scan over both of them with his wrist computer as soon as Rose had left, but still had no idea what injuries they had sustained. They weren't even dehydrated. It was a mystery he hoped the Doctor could solve.

Sighing, he leaned back against the rock to admire the wildflowers and the scraggly spruce trees. The early afternoon sun was hot and bright, so he moved into the cooler shadows after a few minutes. He glanced behind him at the bare mountain dominating the background. At least the TARDIS hadn't materialized on top of Pike's Peak. It would have taken much longer than six hours to walk to that chicken place. It still would have been worth it, though. Watching Rose lick her fingers like that would have been worth any amount of walking. He idly wondered what else Rose Tyler might enjoy licking.

As if the Doctor could hear Jack's lewd thoughts, the TARDIS began to rematerialize on a small patch of flat earth about ten feet from the hikers. Jumping to his feet, Jack waited for his travelling companions.

The Doctor's sonic screwdriver didn't reveal much more information about the kids' injuries than Jack's wrist computer had. However, it did indicate that there was no trauma to their spines or necks, so they carried the hikers into the TARDIS. A bedroom was found with two single beds, and the boy and girl were laid down.

Rose found three straight-back chairs and brought them into the room. "It's just frustrating, yeah? Not knowing what's wrong with them. You think they're boyfriend and girlfriend? They got family looking for them?" she mused, as she watched the girl's chest rise and fall. "When are we anyway?"

"May of 2005," the Doctor replied, as watched the children for signs of regaining consciousness.

"Oh my God!" Rose started. "That's the year I was missing. My mum's looking for me right now!"

"You can't call her right now, Rose. You know what'll happen."

Jack glanced questioningly at Rose. She had not told Jack of the painful meeting she had had with her father, or the Reapers that had appeared as a result.

"I know," she protested. "Was just thinking of their parents, that's all. They must be worried sick. Can we, I dunno, check and see if someone's looking for them?"

"Yeah, I can do that, at least," The Doctor answered. "Be more productive than the three of us just sitting here waiting for them to wake up. You coming with me, Captain?"

"No," he answered quietly. The Doctor stared at Jack for a few seconds. His newest companion was many things, but taciturn was not one of them. Seeing the Doctor staring, Jack continued, "If they wake up, Rose may need some help. I'll just stay and wait here."

"Suit yourself, then," the Doctor replied, leaving to tap into the local police network. If the former Time Agent wanted to talk about what was bothering him, he would do so in his own time.

Rose tried to engage Jack in idle chatter, but gave up after the third time he replied with an 'um'. She retrieved the copy of Oliver Twist that she had been reading in the TARDIS library, and lost herself in the world of Charles Dickens.

Jack, for his part, spent his time thinking about separated families and lost children. His thoughts focused on his brother, Gray, and all the times his mother had asked him if there was any word about his fate. After the attack on the settlement and Gray's disappearance, she had sent her eldest son out to ask every passing freighter if they had heard of survivors of the Boeshane massacre.

Four years later, He had promised his mother on her deathbed that he would not give up the search. And he hadn't really; but the trail had long grown cold, and at times it was easier to pretend that Gray's name was on the list of the dead, rather than the missing. Then, something like this would happen to make him remember. These kids were unconscious and alone, and even after six hours in the TARDIS, no one had come up the mountain searching. Who had failed them?

Jack had finally decided to look for the Doctor and ask him what he had found out when the boy raised his head slightly. "Where am I?" he asked groggily.

Rose ran over to him and started to answer, "You're in the—"

"Hospital," Jack finished for her as he stood next to the boy's bed. The bedroom was metallic, white and utilitarian enough to make this seem plausible, and he did not want to attempt to explain the TARDIS to the boy as he was just regaining consciousness.

"You and a girl were found unconscious on the mountain. You've been out for a few hours now. My friend's just going to get the Doctor so he can take a look at you. I'm Captain Jack Harkness, and I helped to bring you here. You're safe; you don't have to try to talk right now, okay?" He finished with his most reassuring smile. Rose slipped out the door with a grateful look and went to find the Doctor.

The boy nodded slightly, but made no further effort to talk; it was obvious that he was weak and exhausted. The Doctor was in the room in less than a minute and sat down in a chair that he had pulled next to the bed.

"Now then, I'm the Doctor. Can you tell me your name?"

"Matthew Morgan," the boy replied listlessly.

"Fantastic, Matthew Morgan. And can you tell me the name of the young lady who was found with you?"

"That's my sister, Susan," he answered with slightly more energy in his voice.

"Nice name, Susan. So, Matthew, can you tell me why you and your sister were found unconscious on Bad Wolf Summit?"

The teen, feeling a bit confused, answered, "We were climbing Eagle Peak when the sky got dark all of a sudden. It was strange, like the bottom of a cave dark, and then the colors got all mixed up and it felt like we were spinning backwards, and I got really dizzy and sick feeling and then I woke up here. Are we at the Academy Hospital? It looks like we're in the basement or something."

When the Doctor didn't answer right away, Jack replied, "That's right. This is the basement level. No windows, I'm afraid. It's night outside anyway."

The Time Lord studied Matthew intently for a few seconds and then inexplicably grinned. "Okay, Matthew. It looks like you may have taken a fall on your head, so I'm going to ask you a few questions, and you just answer the best that you can. Sound alright? Good, then. First, tell me where you and your sister were hiking."

"Eagle Peak"

"Fantastic. Now, tell me what city Eagle Peak is near."

"Colorado Springs," Matthew answered, rolling his eyes. "On the Air Force Academy. See, I didn't hit my head that badly. Still know where I am, right Captain Harkness?"

"You're doing great answering the Doctor's questions, Matthew. Let's just be patient and see if he has a few more to ask you, and then I think Rose will be back with some water for you to drink."

"Just one more, actually, Matthew. What's today's date and year?"

"It's May twenty-third, 2010. Can I see my mom now?"

Jack looked quizzically at the Doctor, who had grown progressively tense at the boy's answers. The Captain did his best to reassure him. "You're mother's not here, Matthew. If you can give us your phone number, we can call her. I'm sure she's worried about you two."

"But she has to be here! She was on Eagle Peak with us! She was sitting on that rock that's about halfway up to the top. You couldn't have missed her! Where is she?"

Rose hesitated at the doorway, listening. Seeing her, the Doctor spun around and snapped his fingers. "Right, here's Rose with your water. You must be exhausted. You're sister is still sleeping. Now, why don't you have a sip, and take a nap. By the time you wake up, I'm sure this will be all sorted."

As Matthew sat up to drink the water, the Doctor gently placed his hands around the boy's face. Immediately, the teen slumped back to sleep. The Time Lord quickly crossed the room to the girl's side, and placed his hands on her face. She sighed and continued sleeping.

"What did you do to them?" the stunned Captain asked protectively.

The Doctor turned to stare at Jack, "I made sure they would sleep for a while longer. No harm done."

"What gives you the right to knock him out again?"

"Not now, Captain!" the Doctor ordered, as he strode purposefully out of the room. Rose looked apologetically at Jack, and followed the Doctor. Clenching his jaw, Jack finally decided to follow Rose. He wasn't going to let the Time Lord get away without explaining himself.

He found them in the console room. The Doctor was hitting the monitor and mumbling angrily to himself. Rose was demanding that he explain, but he was successfully ignoring her. Jack stepped in front of the monitor. He was damned if he was going to let the Doctor ignore him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Move, Captain. I'm trying to give Rose a little Spock, but the TARDIS is having a hard time narrowing down the search field. Almost . . . There, I've got it."

"Got what? Doctor, what are you doing?" he again demanded.

Looking straight into Jack's eyes, he answered, "Finding Matthew's mother. She's still on the mountain, right where Matthew told us she would be."

"What! That's impossible. Rose and I walked up the same path, and it was empty. No one was on the trail until we came across those two," he argued.

Moving away from the monitor, the Doctor inexplicably asked, "Rose, when you were walking, did you feel or see anything odd?"

"Yeah, yeah, I did. It felt like everything was spinning, just for a second or two. We came on the hikers about ten minutes after, didn't we, Jack? Doctor, what was it, that spinning? Is that what hurt those kids?"

Dropping under the grating, he began to rummage around his storage boxes. His voice echoed. "They're not hurt, just in shock and extremely exhausted. Time storms will do that to you."

"That's impossible," Jack argued. "Time storms are a myth."

"Like Time Lords?" his friend countered, putting a headlamp on his head and throwing one to Jack. "Best hurry. The temperature outside drops quickly once the sun sets."

Before the Doctor could run out of the TARDIS, Rose interjected, "Can't we just materialize next to her, like we did with the other two?"

"Tried," the he answered shortly. "She's either being stubborn again, or the terrain's not level enough to materialize nearby. Rose, stay here and keep an eye on those kids. Come on, Captain!" With that he strode out of the TARDIS and down the dark path.

Hurrying, Jack grabbed his coat off the rack before following the Doctor. Going down the mountain in the dark was much more difficult than climbing up in the daylight. The trail was partially overgrown and full of switchbacks. Worse, the headlamps did not provide much illumination, but at least they did allow hands-free movement.

More than once, he stopped himself from falling down a particularly steep slope by grabbing onto a spruce tree. He was glad for his long woolen coat; he knew most of his body would be scratched without it. Plus, the wind was now howling down the mountain, and the temperature had dropped to freezing since he and Rose had entered the TARDIS.

The Doctor, of course, did not seem to have any problem on the trail. It was almost as if he could see as well in the dark as he could in the daylight, Jack thought sourly. Maybe he could at that; there were still many things the former Time Agent did not know about the Doctor, even after traveling with him for several months. However, he was determined to get some answers from the Time Lord about the supposed time storm, so he strove to keep pace.

"So, Doc, what made you decide all of this was the result of a time storm?" As he spoke, he narrowly avoided slipping on a few loose rocks.

"Don't call me Doc, Captain," he replied irately as he nimbly jumped across a small stream. After a few steps he finally replied. "First, there's no one looking for those kids, nothing on the police frequencies to indicate that two teenagers are missing or had recently run away. Thought that was a little odd, but decided there could be a perfectly logical explanation. Then, that boy, Matthew, wakes up an' starts describing the darkness, an' the kaleidoscope of colors an' the spinning, and I realized it had to be a time storm. Plus, he thinks it's May of 2010. Kind of a giveaway, there."

"So, you're saying they were just, what, plucked out of time and sent back five years? That's why no one's looking for them?"

"Bit more than that. Did you notice how easily Matthew related to you? Called you captain without question?"

"I just assumed he was still groggy and not really thinking straight. Plus, I'm an adult and he probably hasn't been taught to question adults."

"True, but he also mentioned that he was on the Air Force Academy."

"So?"

"Well, as this is ancient history to you, Captain, I'll forgive your ignorance. But the United States Air Force Academy is in Topeka, Kansas, and has been there since its establishment in 1954."

"And?" Jack prompted. He felt that he was missing something very obvious, but he was trying very hard not to fall down. The trail had started to get fairly steep. If he remembered the previous trip, they should be making their way to the spot Matthew described in a few minutes, and Jack wanted to make sure he didn't miss it in the dark. Plus, something was making the most eerie howling sound nearby, and the noise was distracting.

"And, I don't think they were just pulled through time. I think they were somehow pulled here from a parallel world." He turned around to peer intently at the ex Time Agent. "And if you are going to say 'impossible', Captain. This time I would agree with you."

Jack was silent. He had no response to the Doctor's revelation. He didn't doubt the hypothesis, although he held out a small shard of hope that maybe the boy had been delirious when answering all of those questions. Delirious sounded better than lost in a way Jack could not stomach. Lost-no home, no hope of return. So like Gray that it hurt him to think about it. And he had left the mother of these children to the whims of the mountain. He had failed utterly, just as he had failed his brother.

Guilt pushed him onward to the point that he had outpaced even the Doctor. After ten minutes, he could make out the outline of the large rock that marked the halfway point of the hiking trail. Approaching cautiously, he saw a figure lying nearby. Kneeling down on the cold, dusty trail, he put his fingers on her neck to try to find a pulse. As he gazed down, the headlamp illuminated her face.

"Doctor, she's been exposed to some sort of radiation! The right side of her face is covered in blisters."

"Let me take a look," he commanded, as he reached Jack's side. For an instant, the Doctor's headlamp shone on his companion's face, and he was surprised to see his level of fear and anxiety. The Captain was taking this situation personally, and he made a mental note to find out why later.

Now, however, he intently studied the woman on the ground before him. Like her children, she was attired in clothes typical for hiking, pants with zip-off legs, a bright t-shirt, hiking boots, and a lightweight jacket that was tied around her waist. Her right arm and right side of her face were covered in small blisters, and her lips were cracked.

"She's been exposed to radiation, alright. But it's the ultraviolet spectrum. She's sunburned, Jack. And dehydrated from the looks of things, which won't help the hypothermia, but we got to her in time. Now give me your coat."

Wordlessly, he gave the Doctor his coat, and they both gently wrapped the unconscious woman in it. He started to shiver almost immediately; the wind pushing against him went easily through his thin, white t-shirt. Noticing his companion's discomfort, the Time Lord removed his leather jacket and handed it to him.

"Don't feel the cold like a human, me." Jack was about to protest when the Doctor added, "Can't help her if you get hypothermia, too, Captain. That's an order."

Putting on the jacket, he gave his friend a look of gratitude, then he said suggestively, "I could enjoy a little clothes swapping with you, Doc."

Grinning, the Doctor replied, "Control yourself. Besides, think we're going to be busy for a while." He was relieved to see that Jack was starting to act a little more normally. It wasn't the best line in the world, but at least he was joking, and had lost the look of desperation in his eyes.

"Now what?"

Jack hoped the Doctor had some sort of plan. It was a long walk in the dark, and would be longer still carrying an unconscious woman. With her petite frame and flaming red hair, Jack thought she looked like a pixie, but even pixies weighed something. Getting her back to the TARDIS was going to be difficult.

"Now,"he answered quietly, slowly pulling his sonic screwdriver from his pocket, "I'm going to chase off an annoying cat that has been shadowing us for the last fifteen minutes, assuming of course, that it doesn't pounce on us before I can turn around. If she wakes up, have her drink from the flask inside my coat pocket. It'll help with the dehydration."

Great, he thought as the Doctor spun around and took off parallel to the trail. No sonic blaster again. I'm really going to have to find something to keep with me at all times. It was impossible to find a big stick in the dark.

He sat down, pulling the woman onto his lap, careful not to brush against her right side, draping his wool coat over the both of them. It was the best he could do to keep her from the freezing ground, but he really hoped the Doctor would return soon to help him with his burden. How much time did it take to scare off a cat, anyway?

Ten minutes later, the Doctor was conspicuous by his absence. Every noise made Jack tense, wondering if he was going to need that big stick after all. Animals were still howling, although not as close, but there were also strange sounds coming from the trees across the path. The headlamp was growing dim, and he tried vainly to relax as his body continued to pump adrenaline into his system.

His attention abruptly returned to the figure on his lap when he heard her whisper a hoarse, "Where?"

"It's going to be okay," he answered as he realized that she was now shivering and awake. "Rescue's coming. We just have to wait. You have the beginning stages of hypothermia; I'm trying to keep you warm."

"My kids?" she questioned, her voice still raspy.

"They're safe, I promise, and worried about you. Here, drink this; it will help with the dehydration." Jack carefully tipped the bottle into her mouth.

She painfully swallowed a few sips, and then greedily finished the rest of the lukewarm beverage. Her throat was parched, and the liquid washed down the dust that threatened to choke her. Her head ached, as if she had a fever, and her face felt swollen and hot. She wondered idly if she had been stung repeatedly by a nest of irritated wasps. If she had, then her arm had been stung as well. Or maybe she had fallen and gotten brush burns over her face and arm? It bothered her somewhat that she couldn't remember how she had gotten here. But, it was a relief to know that her children were safe.

Looking up, she gazed into the face of her rescuer, and quickly looked down as the light of the headlamp he wore brought spots to her eyes. Worn out, she let her eyelids droop. She was so cold, and yet flushed at the same time. Her body was shivering. Maybe it was just a late flu? The man had said that her children were safe, and, really, that was all that mattered. Maybe she would nap until help came.

Damn, Jack thought as he lightly shook the woman lying on top of him; she's unconscious again. At least he had gotten her to drink. Still no sign of the Doctor, and now it was starting to snow. Of course, the snow wasn't just small, fluffy flurries; no, they had to be large, icy needles, which whipped by the roaring wind, stung his cheek. His backside was also fairly frigid. Denim made a poor insulator, and the cold of the ground was quickly seeping into his skin.

He tried to keep alert, but the snow and dimming light made it impossible to see much more than a few feet ahead of him. Time easily stretched in the uncomfortable darkness. Surely the Doctor should be back by now? Perhaps he should just relax. There was nothing he could do but wait, and the rock he was leaning against was quite comfortable.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Wake up! You stupid, bloody ape! I need your help! Come on, Captain, wake up!"

Jack slowly opened his eyes. He had been dreaming the Doctor was yelling at him. Seeing the Doctor's face in front of his, he slowly realized that his dream had changed to reality. How could he have been so stupid as to fall asleep in the middle of a snowstorm?

A rush of adrenaline temporarily cleared the fog from his brain, and he groaned as his body protested his movement to a sitting position. "She's okay; I didn't lose her?" he asked panicking as he no longer felt the weight of the woman's body on top of his.

"Right now she's better than you," the Time Lord said gruffly. "I helped her to some trees that are better sheltered from the storm. She's conscious and coherent. You did a good job, Jack."

She's going to be fine," he added in a softer tone, as he noticed that his companion was still slightly panicked. "Sorry 'bout the cold. Getting rid of that cat took longer than anticipated." Offering Jack his left hand, the Doctor easily pulled him upright.

"How long were you gone?"

He tried and failed to take a few halting steps. His legs were tingling painfully, full of pins and needles, and he was going to have to wait a moment before the circulation returned completely.

"Too long," the Doctor responded, looking into the snowstorm. "'Bout an hour and a' half. The cat was hungry and had two infant cubs. She wasn't going to let much scare her away from prey. In the end, I had to put them down. Shame, that." At this, the Doctor winced slightly, and turned to face the Captain. "About ready?"

Jack wrongfully decided that he was ready to walk, and took a step towards the Doctor. His legs started to buckle and he instinctively grabbed his friend's right arm to keep himself upright. The Time Lord hissed in pain as soon as Jack touched him, but kept himself steady as he was used as a brace.

"Jesus, Doc, what's wrong with your arm? Your jumper's shredded!"

"Cat fight," he grinned. Seeing his friend's look of disbelief, he added, "I'm fine, Captain. I'm controlling the bleeding, and as long as we get back to the TARDIS soon, it shouldn't be a problem. Starting to worry about you, though. Are you going to be able to walk out of here?"

He was shivering, still felt weak in the knees, and wasn't sure his brain was processing information correctly. Did the Doctor just say he was controlling the bleeding? And the woman was awake? How long had he been out of it, anyway?

He knew the only possible answer to the question, however, so he put as much swagger as he could into his voice when he replied. "Sure, walking's no problem."

"Fantastic. Follow me, and we'll go pick up our hiking companion."

He headed towards some aspen trees about twenty feet away. Jack found that he was able to follow relatively easily once the circulation had finally returned to his body. He was cold and wet, but moving would help. He was also glad to see that the Doctor's headlamp was still bright; his own headlamp was just a feeble glow at this point.

The woman met them on the trail a few feet from the stand of trees. The Captain's first impression of a red headed pixie was enhanced by the sight of her in his greatcoat. The coat trailed the ground by a few inches, making her seem even shorter than she was. She might have looked like a kid playing dress-up, except for the blisters on her face reflected in the lamplight.

Not stopping to bother with introductions, the woman simply started walking up the path, putting herself between the two men. Although Jack was curious to learn her name, the weather was actually deteriorating, and he was relieved that he did not have to stop and be friendly.

Thirty minutes into the climb, he noticed a large figure lying unmoving on the trail in front of them. Had there been another time storm? Coming closer, he realized that whatever it was, it was not human. The angle of the limbs was all wrong, though it was huge. The body stretched over six feet, and it had to weigh at least 250, if not 300 pounds.

"What the hell was that?" he exclaimed as he passed by the creature.

"Mountain lion," the pixie woman answered as she paused to catch her breath.

The Doctor turned and retraced his steps. He stopped, looking regretfully at the dead mountain lion. "Told you I got into a cat fight. Come on, no time to be gawking." And with that said, he started back up the path.

Sometime after encountering the dead cat, the climb became a haze of monotony for all of them. Jack no longer noticed the Doctor or the woman directly in front of him. He merely focused on putting one foot in front of the other as he tried very hard not to slip and make and ass of himself. The woman, for her part, would slow whenever she noticed that the Captain was not keeping up. This made the Doctor check his own pace as soon as he noticed that his two charges were no longer directly behind them.

It was excruciatingly slow going, but eventually, they could make out the faint glow of the TARDIS in the distance. Putting his key into the lock, he paused and asked Jack to return his leather jacket. Too numb in both body and spirit to even ask why, the Captain mutely returned the jacket and the Time Lord eased into it. Opening the door, he ushered them to the warmth inside.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack was the first inside and immediately noticed that Rose was not alone in the console room. The two kids were by her side, looking anxiously past him. Rose grinned at him, and then she too, looked past him to peer anxiously at the two people entering the TARDIS.

"Mom!" the kids shouted as they ran to wrap her into a tight hug.

Rose didn't run, but she was by the Doctor's side almost as quickly, embracing him tightly. "'Was worried about you! Seems like it's been forever. We poked our heads outside a little while ago and saw all the snow. Everyone alright?"

Jack quickly realized that everyone was not alright. Oh, the Doctor was acting normally, full of grins and assurances for Rose, but his body was tense, and he was carefully ensuring that she didn't touch his right arm. His leather jacket covered the shredded jumper, and it was apparent that he had wanted it back for that very reason. He obviously did not need it for the warmth.

Their newest passenger was also far from normal. She was leaning against one of the coral struts and had yet to acknowledge her children beyond accepting their embrace. In fact, it looked to Jack like she had suddenly gone into shock after maintaining her equilibrium on the brutal walk they had just endured. Wishing that he had thought to warn her of the whole 'bigger on the inside' aspect of the TARDIS, he quickly decided on a course of action.

"Come on, Rose, don't I get a hug? After all, I'm freezing, can't keep from shaking, and soaked to the bone." He whined playfully, knowing that she would be next to him in a second.

"Any excuse for a hug," she said happily as she put her arms around him. "Oh God, Jack, you're freezing! How can I help?"

He smiled softly at her, "Much as I'm tempted to answer 'share your body heat', I think some coffee would be in order, if you don't mind. I think I need to help the Doctor with our newest guest."

"Sure. It looks like she'll need a trip to the infirmary. Maybe I should take Matthew and Susan with me, so they won't be in the way. What do you think, Doctor?" Rose asked as she started to walk towards the interior of the ship.

"That would be a help, thanks," he replied as he approached the threesome. The woman had yet to respond to her kids' questions, and her children were becoming quite upset.

"Okay, you heard Rose, you two. The Captain and I are going to get your mother sorted, and you are going with Rose to the kitchen. I think we could all use something warm to drink and eat." He spoke more gently than normal, knowing that they would not want to leave their mother so soon after being reunited with her.

"Is she going to be okay?" Susan asked, as Matthew blurted, "Are you really an ET?"

He grinned. "She'll be fine; talk about the other later. I'm the Doctor and this is Captain Jack Harkness. By the way, Susan, nice to meet you. Now the faster you're gone, the faster we can help."

Reluctantly, the two let go of their mother and followed Rose down the corridors. As she was leaving, Rose looked severely at the Doctor. "You're getting blood on your jacket, you know."

Ignoring Rose's comment, he carefully approached the woman as Jack watched a few feet away. "Melissa, it's okay. You're safe. Your children are safe. You're in a ship. It's called the TARDIS; stands for Time and Relative Dimension in Space. It's bigger on the inside. You're safe." Laying his hand on her uninjured arm, he added, "I'm the Doctor. Do you remember? We found you outside."

As the Doctor said his name, she slowly gazed up at him. Her eyes were haunted but unfocused. When he made eye contact, she began whispering that she was sorry over and over again. Realizing that this was more than just shock at experiencing the TARDIS, Jack stood beside the Doctor to offer what help he could. Just as he was wondering if the TARDIS had sedatives on board, Melissa looked up again and gasped out with a wretched sob, "I tried to save them. I did. It's all my fault!"

Something in her tone sent chills up the Doctor's spine. Involuntarily, he took a step away from her, so it was left to his companion to comfort the now sobbing woman. In his arms, she quieted almost immediately; then, she abruptly pushed away from him. She slowly looked around as if seeing the TARDIS for the first time.

"Hi," she started uncertainly, "Uh, you're the captain who's coat I borrowed, aren't you? And you're the doctor who found me. You're bleeding. Does this, um, place have a first aid kit?"

Jack looked closely at the Doctor's jacket and realized that Rose had been correct earlier. The right cuff was now shiny with blood. "Oh, the TARDIS has something much better than a simple first aid kit. There's an entire infirmary just down the hall and to the right. We can get something for your face and arm there, too. Coming, Doc?" Jack put his hand on Melissa's back and led her through the ship.

The infirmary was a shiny metallic room with a wall of drawers and a single bed. In the far corner, there was also a sink, what looked like a TV monitor and a old metal chair. Usually, this was the Doctor's domain, as he would sprint around flinging open drawers, pulling out instruments, and healing whatever scrapes his companions had picked up due to their frequent bouts of running. However, Jack noticed that the Doctor was not currently up to much sprinting. He was standing stiffly against the wall near the door, his jaw was clenched, an intense look of concentration on his face. Blood was also trickling down his hand to drip slowly on the floor.

Jack began rummaging through some of the larger drawers, when Melissa interrupted him, "Captain," she said commandingly, "you're cold, soaked and still shivering. Go find some dry clothes to change into and get back in here."

"Doctor," she continued as she shucked off Jack's coat, "sit. I'm going to take that jacket off, and see how bad you're arm is." Looking back at Jack, she ordered, "Now move, Captain!"

Speeding towards his own room, Jack's mind raced. Okay, so maybe the lady was crazy, but she seemed to know how to order people around. Hopefully, she knew a thing or two about first aid. The Doc didn't seem to be doing so well since he had gotten back to the TARDIS; maybe the cold had been suppressing his circulation enough to slow the bleeding—then again, maybe not. He really didn't know enough about the Time Lord's biology to make a guess at this point. The only thing he could do was change quickly, hopefully stop shivering, and make a beeline back to the infirmary.

The Doctor had not said a word since sitting stiffly in the infirmary's chair. Melissa carefully pulled the black leather jacket off of his frame, and gasped involuntarily as she saw the shredded jumper and several long slash marks on the lower half of his right arm. One was so deep that she could see the bone beneath. Blood was flowing freely from that gouge, but was barely trickling from the other three cuts.

"I need scissors," she said, while assessing the wounds. He merely pointed with his left hand to a drawer in the middle of the wall. Grabbing a sharp pair of scissors from the drawer, she began to cut off the torn sleeve of the jumper. "It needs to be cleaned before it can be stitched. Do you have anything I can clean it with?"

"Water," the Doctor answered through clenched teeth.

"Just water?" she asked disbelieving. A small nod was all the answer she received, so she went to the sink and filled a large bowl with warm water. Grabbing a washcloth she had seen in the drawer with the scissors, she began to squeeze the water into the wounds. The Doctor's left hand clenched the arm of the chair to the point that Melissa thought the metal would break, but that was the only indication of pain that he gave.

As she washed the deepest gouge, Melissa noticed that blood was no longer seeping out of any of the cuts. Seeing the pale wounds, open and clean, unnerved her. Surely this person, who had a box that was much, much bigger on the inside, was no ordinary man. Still, he had saved her life, and he needed her help now. It didn't really matter if he was different; she owed him. Hoping her Red Cross training would be enough, she put the washcloth in the bowl and asked, "Is there anything to stitch the wounds closed with?"

"No stitches," he answered slowly, his eyes now tightly shut. His left hand gripped the arm of the chair so tightly that it bent.

"Okay, then what?"

"Top row, third from the door. Tube of blue gel and some large plasters." He ground the words out, his eyes squeezing even tighter.

She flung open the correct drawer just as Jack entered the room dressed in a dark orange velour track suit. He took one look at the Doctor's arm and softly exclaimed, "Jesus." Grabbing the gel out of Melissa's hands he announced, "Triplexian wound dressing, perfect." Then, he liberally squirted the gel into the Doctor's gashes. Finishing, he turned to Melissa and said, "Okay, find me something to stitch these closed."

"He said no stitches," she countered, handing him the plasters.

"Well, this is going to be fun. Like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. I just hope these are strong enough to keep everything closed."

Working efficiently, he finished binding the wounds in less than five minutes. Looking up, he saw that the Doctor's eyes were still shut tightly, although his hand was no longer warping the chair. He rested his hand on the Time Lord's shoulder, "Doctor? That's the best I can do. Are you sure you don't need stitches?"

Blowing out a long breath, the Doctor relaxed his entire body as he opened his eyes to look down at his arm. "Fantastic. That should do fine, although you can wrap the arm. Need something to keep the plasters from coming off when I change." Jack agreed and found a wide roll of gauze to wrap the Doctor's forearm.

Grinning as if nothing had happened, he watched his friend work. "By the way, Captain, I don't think orange is your color.

"If you don't like it, I could take it off."

"Still haven't bought me that drink." The Doctor grinned back; his companion seemed to be back to his old self.

They both turned around as Melissa snorted behind them. She had been using the wet washcloth to wipe the blood off the leather jacket, but couldn't help laughing at the two men as they joked with each other. She blushed slightly when she looked up to find them regarding her intently.

"Melissa Morgan, thank you kindly for the first aid. I don't think I've properly introduced you to Captain Jack Harkness. I'm afraid the Captain was sleeping on the job when I arrived."

"Hey, it was cold, snowing, and I did loan her my coat!"

"For which I am truly grateful, Captain." She was grateful, even if she was confused, befuddled and definitely out of her depth.

The former Time Agent gently took her hand and raised it to his lips. "Please call me Jack." Looking intently at her raised arm, he asked, "Is Triplexian wound dressing effective on weeping blisters, Doc?"

Jumping up, the Doctor peered intently at the sunburn on Melissa's arm and face. Before she quite knew what was happening, she found herself seated in the chair the Doctor had just vacated.

"Looks like the wool of the coat rubbed the blisters raw in spots. The gel should work well for that, and stop some of the stinging. Use it on her face, too, Jack. We don't want any scarring."

The gel was blissfully cool on her throbbing face, and smelled faintly of aloe. The Doctor was patched up; Captain Harkness was no longer shivering; and she was no longer in pain. It was past time, she thought, to ask some questions.

"Doctor, you told me my children would be here, but I haven't seen them."

At this, both men frowned. It was disconcerting to see the same of look of concern on both their faces. Jack started to open his mouth, but looking at the Doctor promptly shut it. Taking the lead, the Time Lord asked, "How much do you remember of the hike back here?"

"Well," she said slowly, trying to put her thoughts in order. "I remember you carrying me to some trees. You told me that you were the Doctor, no name attached, and you and the captain were here to rescue me. You said that we were going to have to hike up for a while, and that the captain had hypothermia. You went and got him. Um, we all went up the mountain. We saw a dead mountain lion. We walked forever; then, I saw a strange blue box, and, uh, that's all I remember until I woke up in Captain Harkness' arms." As she finished speaking, she flushed, remembering coming to her senses in the arms of a man who was drop-dead gorgeous.

"Okay, first, the strange blue box is called the TARDIS. Stands for time and relative dimension in space. It's bigger on the inside, and it's my ship. You seemed fine until you entered, and then you became non-responsive. Your children were embracing you, but you didn't move. My friend Rose took them to the kitchen so Jack and I could help you without them watching. They should still be there fixing us all something warm to eat."

"Your ship defies common sense," she blurted, feeling a little dazed.

"The TARDIS is the most magnificent ship in the universe, and she's one of a kind. Besides, you primitive apes have a lot to learn about common sense," the Doctor answered with a grin.

"So, are you human?" Melissa wasn't sure why she felt the need to ask that question. After seeing how his body had responded to such a grave injury, she already knew the answer.

"Not human. Is that a problem for you?"

"You look human," she commented stupidly.

"Get that often," he agreed, looking very somber.

"Uh, no problem, I mean, with the whole not human thing," Melissa stammered. "Are you human?" she asked, looking at Jack, still gorgeous in his absurd orange sweats.

"Very. Of course, I'm from the fifty-first century."

"Uh, so this ship travels in time?" she squeaked.

"Time and space," agreed Jack. "We overthrow dictators, eat chips, run for our lives, and always stop to rescue damsels in distress."

She didn't open her mouth until she thought the trembling in her voice would be less noticeable. "Oh, I should thank you both again, if I haven't yet. For rescuing me. I don't know what happened. Um, it's a lot to take in. Can I see my kids now?"

The Doctor helped her out of the chair. "Your children should be down the hall to the left. You can't miss the kitchen. Jack and I will catch up in a few minutes." Seeing that she was slightly nervous, he grinned, "It is a lot to take in at once. You're doing fantastic, Melissa Morgan." Nodding, she headed towards the kitchen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As soon as she had left the room, Jack asked the Doctor, "So what do you think of the memory loss?"

The Time Lord stood, arms folded, critcally studying his companion. "Flashback, shock, time lash, brain tumor-I don't know and don't particularly care at the moment, Captain." Gone was the grin of a few seconds ago. In its place was a look of steel that Jack had seen on the alien's face only a few times before.

"What kind of stupid stunt was that? You almost got yourself killed, you dumb ape!" The Doctor thundered as he pushed Jack down into the well-used chair and began to scan him with the sonic screwdriver.

"Your core body temperature dropped t degrees in less than two hours. I'm surprised your heart didn't go into arrhythmia, never mind the hypothermia. I'm not a mind reader, Captain! I don't know what genetic modifications you've had. So tell me the next time before I get you killed!"

Jack opened his mouth and closed it like a drowning fish. He felt like he was behind the curve once again, and it was putting him into a bad mood. "What the hell are you talking about, Doc? As far as I know, I don't have any modifications apart from standard Time Agency inoculations."

"Your body's been genetically altered to adapt to extreme heat, Captain. Usually not a problem, unless you decide to go out into a blizzard and give away your coat. Deliberately pausing so he could control his emotions, the Doctor finally asked, "I take it this was done without your knowledge?"

"Well, it could have been done during those two years and I just don't remember it."

"Where and when did you say you were born?" The Doctor doubted this had anything to do with the Time Agency.

"I didn't," he responded curtly. He did not want to slog through his own ancient history with anyone.

"Captain."

"I was born on Boeshane, 5043." Jack hoped he had said it with enough indifference that his friend would not press.

"Lived in the capital city, did you?" the Doctor asked casually.

"Peninsula," he countered, although he momentarily considered lying. He did not want to have this conversation.

Nodding, the Doctor commented offhandedly, "You were probably modified at birth to adapt to that climate. No harm done, just remember to wear the proper gear next time you play in the snow."

"Will do," he replied with the same air of nonchalance. "I think I'll go into the kitchen and get something to eat. You coming?"

"Go ahead. I'm going to finish getting the blood out of my jacket and find a new jumper first. Tell Rose that I'll be there in a bit."

As the Doctor left the infirmary to find a new jumper, his mind was troubled. Jack had been born on Boeshane, a tiny excuse of a planet that he had never considered visiting in all of his long lives. A botched terraform job had left it only marginally inhabitable, and at that point in its history it was subject to raids from a truly nasty race whose only pleasure in life seemed to be torture.

Although the capital boasted the latest amenities of fifty-first century technology, the peninsula had been left to fend for itself, resulting in the development of a traditional clan structure. Members of the clans were fiercely loyal to their way of life, and left the planet only under extreme circumstances. Jack's previous profession and liberal moral code in light of his background indicated a significant childhood trauma. It would also explain his overt empathy with this family, injured and torn from their home. With the mystery of Jack's uncharacteristic behavior solved, the Doctor strode quickly down the corridors to retrieve new clothing. He was anxious to get back to the kitchen; he had a suspicion that his life was about to get uncomfortably domestic.


	2. No Place Like Home

The Doctor was pleased to find that dinner was not as domestic as he had feared. True, there were twice as many people aboard than there were twenty hours ago, but everyone was tired and focused on eating the vegetable soup that Rose and the two teens had prepared. Matthew, did not, thankfully, press him about his status as an extraterrestrial. Melissa blamed her inability to use her mobile on the spring storm, and didn't ask to contact anyone that night. Since he had no intention of explaining parallel universes to her until she had rested, he neglected to point out that his ship was perfectly capable of communicating with the outside world, storm or no storm.

Everyone decided to get some sleep after dinner. Jack led Melissa down the corridors to find another bedroom for her. Susan and Matthew trailed happily behind, relieved that their mother was safe and sound. Rose and the Doctor were left in the kitchen to do clean-up.

"Surprised you know how to do the dishes." Rose teased as she ladled the leftover soup into a large container.

"Oi! I have you know that I'm perfectly capable of cleaning up after myself. Over nine hundred, me; think I've done the dishes once or twice." The Doctor protested as he began to wash the dishes.

Rose just grinned at him. She loved to wind him up, and sometimes it was just too easy. "What?" he asked as she continued to grin.

"Just imagined you as more of a pizza box kind of bloke, that's all," she responded lightly.

"Rose Tyler! Have I not taken you to some of the best restaurants in the universe? Didn't I cook anwhallz for you?" he said in mock indignation as he scrubbed soup bowls.

"That doesn't count. I was talking 'bout cleaning, and Jack cleaned up after the anwhallz. Right mess that was; it took him two hours to get that pot clean." She laughed; he was acting like his pride had been injured.

"But it was worth it," he replied very seriously, and then gave her a big grin to show her he knew exactly what she was doing.

"Yeah, it was," she agreed, laughing again. She was surprised to find that he had almost finished the dishes. She didn't understand why he had washed them by hand; it would have been much quicker to load them into the dishwasher.

Finishing the dishes, the Doctor turned to his companion and said very sincerely, "Thank you for dealing with those kids. Must have been difficult, explaining the TARDIS to them when they woke up. Then you kept 'em away when Jack and I were helping their mother."

She stared into his deep blue eyes as he thanked her for a job well done. She felt uncomfortable whenever he praised her like this. She hadn't done much, really, certainly not enough to warrant the devotion she saw on his face.

Glancing down, she said dismissively, "No problem, I gave them some vegetables to chop, is all." Wanting him to drop the subject, she asked "So how's your arm?"

"Better, now, thanks. Rose—"

"Doctor," she started as she cut off whatever else he was going to say. "Those kids, they say they're from Earth. But they're not from the Earth that I know. Where'd they come from?"

"What makes you say that?" he asked, curious to see what she had noticed.

"They were talking 'bout their dad getting killed in a war I had never heard of. Then they were talking about some terrorist group like I should know who they were, but I've never heard of 'em either."

The Doctor leaned back against the wall, thinking. "They're from a parallel world. I think a time storm somehow brought them here, and pulled the TARDIS out of the Vortex."

"How do we get them back?" she asked, stunned.

He answered flatly. "We don't. Travel between parallel universes is impossible."

"So, what are we going to do, then?"

"Do? There's not much to do. We explain the situation to them. Say goodbye, and go to Raxacorocofallapatorius," he answered, knowing that things were slightly more complicated than that.

"You can't just leave them! They don't know anyone, or have any money, or identification that works here!" she said heatedly. Sometimes the Doctor acted so alien it made her want to scream.

"Not my problem," he shot back. It wasn't his problem, not really, but he knew that his two human companions would make it his problem. He also knew that he should graciously concede the argument, but his stubborn streak would not allow it. Rose was going to have to do some more convincing before he was ready to give in.

Hesitantly, she took his hand, and the Doctor could see that her anger had been replaced by something akin to sympathy. "Doctor," she entreated, "we have to help them. They've lost all their people, yeah? They need us. Isn't that why the TARDIS made us stay?"

The Time Lord's face was suddenly impassive. The topic of conversation was now far too personal. He knew that Rose was right, but he had avoided making the same comparison. Some things were just too painful to acknowledge. In fact, it could be worse for this family. Depending upon how close their world was to this one, they could face the images of loved ones and friends, only to have them react as complete strangers. Worse yet, they could have their own doppelgangers. He hoped they did not have alternates in this universe; it would make things extremely difficult.

Gently, he squeezed her hand in acknowledgement. He had the urgent desire to wrap her tightly in a hug, rest his head on hers, and thank her. He did none of those things, of course. Instead, he quietly responded, "Yeah."

"Good," she responded simply. She knew better than to ask him about his thoughts at the moment. By the guarded look on his face, she knew he was remembering his own losses, and he was not comfortable talking about that yet, even to her. She doubted he ever would be. "Think I'll go to bed," she said when his silence continued for more than a minute.

"Humans, you'd sleep half your lives away, if you could," he replied with a small smile, releasing her hand.

"I'd take that as an insult if I wasn't so tired." She returned his smile warmly, just to show him that everything was normal again.

"Goodnight, Rose," he said affectionately as she walked out of the room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Morning came far too quickly for the Doctor. He had slept fretfully, his usual nightmares hindering the healing process of his arm, which throbbed painfully as he slipped on his jacket. He was not looking forward to explaining to Melissa and her children that they were no longer on the Earth they knew, especially as he had no explanation for how they had come to be on this Earth in the first place. Crossing the Void should be impossible since the end of the Time War, and the fact that it was less impossible than he thought gave him a headache that rivaled the pain from his injuries.

Grabbing a cup of coffee from the empty kitchen, he walked toward the console room. He was looking forward to doing some repairs before the humans were awake. It would give him time to think about what he was going to say to Melissa, and it would take his mind off his arm. The Doctor stopped short as he walked inside. The two kids were already there, running their hands over every part of the console. Susan was tapping the glass which contained the time rotor, and Matthew was just about to release the parking brake.

Incensed, he barked, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Susan gasped and Matthew jumped involuntarily. They had both been too engrossed in their exploration of the TARDIS to notice the Doctor's entrance. Both immediately backed away from the console to stand fearfully behind the far support strut. Neither had the courage to answer the Doctor.

"You heard me. What were you doing?" the Doctor repeated in a quieter, but no less commanding tone.

"What's going on here?" Melissa demanded as she walked in behind the Doctor.

"You need to keep your children on a shorter leash. That's what going on here," he answered brusquely.

"I don't keep my children on a leash, and I don't appreciate you scaring them so much that they feel the need to hide."

"Fine! So long as they stop playing with the controls of my ship, I'll stop yelling at them."

She nodded curtly, and before he could get a word out, she turned to stare severely at the two teenagers. "Susan, Matthew, stand where I can see you!" Sheepishly, the two teens came out from behind the strut. "Explain," she commanded.

"We were just looking around," Susan said defensively.

"Looking usually involves one's eyes, not one's hands, Susan," her mother lectured.

"Yes ma'am," the teenager replied contritely.

"Matthew?" she asked, giving the question an air of command.

"Aw, Mom. We didn't mean any harm. Rose told us it's a spaceship that travels in time. She said they've been to Victorian times and the year five billion! This whole place defies the laws of physics. How cool is that? We just had to check it out!" Matthew enthused, forgetting for a moment that he was in trouble.

"Matthew!" she admonished. "You know better than to touch things that don't belong to you." She received a small nod in reply. "Now, what do you two have to say for yourselves?"

"Sorry, Doctor. We won't do it again," Susan promised.

"Yeah, sorry," Matthew agreed sullenly.

"Sorry about what?" Melissa prodded. She wasn't about to let this one drop, especially since they owed their lives to the people in this amazing ship.

Susan dutifully spelled out her crime, "We're sorry we came in here without permission."

"And we're sorry we touched your stuff. We won't do it again," Matthew begrudgingly added.

"Doctor," Melissa asked as she kept her eyes trained on her children, "is there anything you would like to say to them?"

Caught off-guard, and finding it difficult not to snicker at the whole scene before him, the Doctor merely replied, "Uh, apology accepted. No hard feelings."

"Thank you," she replied, while her back was still turned towards him. "Kids, you may go to your room until I call you." As this was clearly a dismissal, Susan and Matthew left quickly. They were eager not to incur their mom's or the Doctor's wrath again.

Hearing Melissa tell her children to go to their room reminded the Doctor of the gas mask child he and Rose had met during World War II. That fiasco had mostly been the Captain's fault, but it had actually turned out to be one of the Doctor's better days. It wasn't often that he saved the world and everyone lived to tell the tale.

With a pang of guilt, the Doctor realized that he had been as harsh with Susan and Matthew as he had been with Jack when he realized the good Captain might just manage to wipe out the human race before it reached the atomic age. The teens' transgressions had been on a far lesser scale. In truth, it would take a Time Lord to make the TARDIS go anywhere she didn't want to go, and no harm had been done. He had once again let his temper get the best of him.

Lost in thought, the Doctor did not see Susan and Matthew quietly slink off to their room, nor did he hear Melissa approach. It was not until she was standing directly in front of him, her finger pointed at his chest, that he took notice of her.

"And as for you," he heard her say angrily, "don't ever yell at my kids again. If you've got a problem with them, take it up with me."

It crossed his mind to argue the point. It was his ship after all. But he had learned with Jackie Tyler that when it came to mums, discretion was the better part of valor. He merely nodded as he took a sip of his coffee.

The silence was just getting uncomfortable when Rose slipped into the room, followed closely by Jack and the twins, who were looking pleased with themselves.

"Look who I found holed up in their room!" Jack greeted the Doctor and Melissa, grinning. "Didn't think they should have to spend their entire time on the TARDIS confined to quarters. What do you think, Doctor?"

"Don't look at me, Captain. I didn't confine them to their room. Their mother did." He protested as put down his empty coffee cup. "But, seeing as how they're out, maybe you wouldn't mind showing everyone the wardrobe room."

Oh, yes, that would be a fantastic distraction. Jack and Rose could take them there, and he could spend at least an hour or two tinkering. "Looks like Melissa and her kids could use some fresh clothes."

His plan was not to be. Ignoring his suggestion, and cutting off Jack's enthusiastic agreement, Melissa asked to borrow Rose's phone. "My brother will be worried sick. I really should call him and let him know we're alright. I'm surprised he hasn't got Security Forces swarming the trail for us already!"

Reactions to her simple request were swift and divergent. Susan and Matthew looked somewhat guilty. They had been having too much fun on the TARDIS to think about their Uncle Brad or how worried he might be about their disappearance. The Doctor showed no emotion whatsoever, but stood a little straighter and once again crossed his arms. Jack plastered an artificial grin on his face, but would not meet Melissa's eyes. It was Rose's reaction, however, that told the newcomer that something was not quite right.

Rose stood there, her face flushed, fumbling over her words. "Oh, well, you see . . . um, I'm not sure-". Finally, she just gave up, and said, "Doctor?" in a hesitant voice as she turned away from Melissa to face the man in the leather jacket.

"What Rose is trying to say, in her rather inelegant way, is that you might have some difficulty contacting your brother," the Doctor began, deciding that it was best to get the explanation out of the way, and let the three ponder the ramifications in their own time. "I believe you come from a world parallel from this one, and were brought here by some unknown means."

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" Melissa accused the Doctor, her hands tightening into fists as she spoke.

"Mom, what's going on?" Matthew asked warily, as he and Susan came to stand next to her, as if for protection.

"No joke," the Doctor responded.

Rose simply whispered, "I'm so sorry." Then, she reached out with her hand and touched Melissa's shoulder. "The Doctor's going to help you, I promise." Seeing that the woman wasn't ready to be comforted, Rose backed away and slipped to the Doctor's side.

"Jack?" begged Melissa. Perhaps Rose and the Doctor were mistaken; she longed to see denial in his face, but she did not.

"It's the only thing that fits the facts so far. I'm sorry," Jack offered sincerely as he dashed her hopes.

This time, Melissa turned her pleading to the Doctor, "But you can take us back, right? Something got us here, so there must be a way to get back." Before the Doctor could answer, her plea became a command. "Take us back!"

"I can't. I don't know how you got here," he admitted.

"I'm sure someone with a ship as impressive as yours can figure it out," she challenged.

His ego prodded, the Doctor went into lecture mode. "Crossing from one parallel world to another used to be possible, but that's gone now. The void between the universes became impossible to access. Theoretically, you can rip a hole in two universes and move from one to another, but in practice, you could end up destroying both worlds. It's too dangerous even to try."

Melissa stared at him, overwhelmed. There had been an awful lot of 'could', and 'used to' and 'theoretically' in that explanation, but it also sounded like he believed he was telling her the truth. She and her children were somewhere they had not been before, and there was no way back. They had only the clothes they were wearing, and a backpack full of hiking supplies. They had nothing. They were refugees.

Devastated, she realized that everyone in the room was waiting for her to respond. "I don't know what to say," she said, completely overwhelmed.

It was the truth. It was too much to comprehend in the few minutes it had been explained to her. She didn't want to think about anything, and the ship was making her claustrophobic. No one had responded to her comment, so she added, "I'm going to get some air," and headed out the door.

Standing outside in the brisk mountain air, Melissa took some slow deep breaths. She could feel a chilly dampness above her ankles as the snow began to melt in the sun. After a while, the door to the blue box opened, and Susan and Matthew joined their mother. Matthew had the backpack he had been wearing yesterday slung over one shoulder. Both he and Susan were wearing warm jackets, and they had brought one for her as well. Slipping it on, Melissa decided there was only one thing left to do.

"We need to make it to the top. Your daddy would've wanted us to finish it."

Nodding, the twins started walking up the trail. No one spoke; they had come to Colorado for a purpose, and it was time to finish it. The trail was slippery, but manageable, and they made it to the summit without any mishaps. The view of Pike's Peak was as breathtaking as always, but the opposite view was horribly wrong. There was no chapel, no athletic fields, no buildings whatsoever to indicate that a school or Air Force base had ever existed here. The valley below was undeveloped and covered in yellow wildflowers, and a small herd of elk could be seen feasting on the grass.

"It's been stolen!" Susan accused, not quite understanding.

"Parallel," Matthew stated darkly as he began to realize just what that might mean.

"And what's that mean?" Susan retorted. "Are we in some sort of fantasyland where TV shows and comic books are real?

Matthew gave her a condescending look, and started in a snide voice, "If you'd paid attention in physics instead of sleeping, you'd know that parallel worlds are based on choices made, not fantasy coming to life. For all we know, the Army Air Corps never became the Air Force here and all the cadets go to West Point."

Susan had had enough. Matthew was always a little too smug for his own good, and he actually looked like he was enjoying their predicament. "Look, asshole, I don't care how this stupid place works; I just want out! So you can shut up!"

Melissa groaned to herself. She found that it was best to let her two children argue until it degenerated into name calling. Looking sternly at both kids, she said, "That's enough! Matthew, I doubt you covered this in high school physics, so stop acting like a know-it-all. Susan, I know you're scared because I am too, but try not to take it out on your brother."

Softening her voice and expression, she finished, "Now come here, both of you. I don't know about you, but I could use a hug."

The three embraced for a long while. There were some sobs and a few sniffles, even from Matthew, as they all realized that they were alone in a new place. They were used to feeling alone, but at home they still had an uncle, friends and a community of people who knew them and cared about them. Soon, however, Matthew and Susan pulled away and dried their tears.

"It's not so bad," Melissa tried to console them. "Home is wherever our family is."

"Yeah," Susan replied bravely, "It's just like another move. Where are we going to live, though? Are we going back to New Orleans, or staying here, or going somewhere else?"

"One thing at a time, Sue," Melissa replied, suddenly tired. "Right now, why don't you two go back to the TARDIS and get clean. Maybe that wardrobe room the Doctor was talking about has something to fit you until we can get some new clothes. I'll be down in a few minutes."

Matthew piped up, "You should see the wardrobe room, Mom! It's so cool. That's where we got the jackets; it must have, like, a million outfits or something!"

His comment on the number of outfits started another round of bickering between the siblings. However, it was good-natured, and Melissa ignored the sniping as Susan and Matthew disappeared from view.

Once the kids were gone, it was peaceful at the summit, and she was tempted to spend the day watching the elk in the valley below and ignoring her situation. If she didn't go back to the TARDIS, then she wouldn't have to think or make any decisions. Although, the grime and dust from yesterday was starting to bother her; she hated to feel dirty. Her arm was starting to smart, and she didn't want to burn her face again today. Knowing that she couldn't hide forever, she finally made her way back.

The wardrobe room really was amazing, she had to admit. The word room didn't do it justice. It was more of a majestic, open air loft filled to the brim with every type of clothing imaginable. It would have been tempting to play dress-up, even at her age, if she hadn't been so dirty or feeling so hungry. She quickly picked out a pair of tan linen pants, a brown peasant blouse and a pair of leather sandals, and headed for the bathroom. After a long, hot shower, and a breakfast of coffee and stale chocolate biscuits, it was time to face reality.

Reality was waiting impatiently in the console room of the ship. They were all there, the Doctor, Jack, Rose, Susan and Matthew. As soon as Melissa walked in, the Doctor got right to the point. "Good, we need to do some fact-checking to see just how much of a gingerbread house this world is going to be for you lot."

"Gingerbread house?" she questioned, not seeing the analogy.

"Yeah," the Doctor affirmed, "like with Hansel and Gretel, very tempting to taste, but not always what it seems, and full of hidden dangers."

"Okay," she agreed slowly, wondering what differences they would find.

"First, I need your full name and date of birth," the Doctor told her as he adjusted the controls to the monitor on the console.

Automatically, she gave the requested information, along with her Social Security number. After a few seconds of absolute silence, the Doctor said, "Convenient that, you don't exist." A few minutes of checking revealed that her parents and the grandfather who had raised her had never existed, either.

Taking a deep breath, Melissa asked the one question that terrified her. "And my husband?"

The Doctor shot her a frown while Rose looked decidedly uncomfortable. Susan jumped up from her seat and excitedly exclaimed, "You mean Daddy might still be alive?"

As he twisted dials near the monitor, the Doctor could be heard muttering, "Gingerbread." It took only a few seconds to ferret out the truth. "Mark Allen Morgan, Major, US Air Force, killed in a training accident in Afghanistan on May 23rd, 2002."

"You're wrong, Doctor." Bitterness laced her voice. "This world isn't a gingerbread house; it's a room full of fun house mirrors. Everything's distorted into a nightmare. My husband died in Afghanistan six years to the day that this Mark Morgan did. He was killed in wartime, by a roadside bomb as his convoy headed towards Kabul. It's been two years since he died, and we came back here to hike up Eagle Peak in his memory."

Rose looked sympathetically at Melissa, "Matthew mentioned a war last night, I'm sorry."

"There's no war here?" she asked incredulously. She wasn't sure if she was happy or perversely angry about that. Surely something important enough to take away her husband should echo through every world.

"Lots of wars," the Doctor commented. "Just not sure about that particular war. Why would America be fighting in Afghanistan?"

She felt like she'd been punched in the gut. Just how different was this world? "Ever heard of al-Qaeda? 9/11? The War Against Terror?" Each question received a small shake of negation from the Doctor.

"So," Matthew interjected, "The World Trade Center's still standing?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Jack asked. He recognized the name of the famous New York landmark, still standing in the 51st century. It would become the capital building of the Americas in 2252.

"Cause the terrorists flew two planes into the towers and they collapsed." Susan answered without emotion.

"Fun house mirrors," Rose agreed. This world doesn't have terrorists like that." She added, "Actually, most things that are blamed on terrorists turn out to be aliens."

"Aliens? You use terrorists as a cover story for aliens? How much history are we going to have to relearn?"

Melissa felt like she was losing her sanity. It was disconcerting enough to stand inside an impossible ship with an alien who seemed to be a man, another who claimed to be from the future, and a young blonde from London who was barely out of her teens.

However, it paled in comparison to the thought that her history had been erased and overwritten by something entirely different. She didn't know yet if this world was better for it-perhaps it was. Perhaps it was a more peaceful planet, full of goodwill and brotherhood. Or, perhaps it was merely violent in a different way. The differences scared her. Even if these last two years had been a waking haze of a nightmare, it was a familiar nightmare. She had learned to cope; she was not sure she had the strength to cope with something new.

"Um, Mom?" Matthew called softly, realizing that she was getting that look on her face, the one where she was pumping steam and just about to blow.

"What!" she snapped as her son pulled her from her spiraling thoughts.

"Don't kill the messenger," he said nervously. "I mean, it doesn't sound like it's their fault we're here." He spoke quickly, seeing that his mother had taken his words as a sign of disrespect and not concern.

She stared at him blankly for a moment. Things were getting bad when her fifteen year old was acting more mature than she. Forcing herself to once again calm down, she put on a brave face and agreed. "No need to kill the messengers, Matthew. It's just a lot to take in. We'll figure it all out."

"Doctor," Rose prodded, "we'll help them, right?"

"'Course," the Doctor replied. "We'll help you get started here, or. . . ."

"Or?" she asked hopefully. Maybe he could find a way to send them back after all.

"Well, you lot could come with us. Plenty of room on board, and lots of planets to see." The Time Lord made his offer casually, pretending that it had been his idea.

In truth, Rose had broached the subject almost as soon as the kids had left the TARDIS to give their mum a jacket. He hadn't been all that enthusiastic, but could make no argument except a vague sense of uneasiness at the whole situation being too domestic. Rose had not allowed 'domestics' to be the deciding factor, and had asked Jack his opinion. The Captain had refused to take sides, saying that he was not going to get into the middle of the discussion. His tone of voice had made it clear that he thought it was more of a row than a discussion. Grudgingly, the Doctor capitulated and told Rose that he would make the offer.

Melissa smiled graciously at the Doctor as she desperately sought a polite way to turn him down. She was flattered that he would offer her family a place on his ship, but they could not handle any more surprises today. There was a small part of her that was screaming 'yes, yes, yes, go, go, go', but the more logical part of her knew it would not be a stable environment for her children. Fun, yes; stable, no.

Seeing her way clear, she began with a touch of humor in her voice, "We're honored that you'd invite us, Doctor, but I think it might be dangerous to have a fifteen year old genius on board. Matthew might not be able to resist playing with the TARDIS controls for too much longer."

The Doctor visibly paled as she spoke. As soon as she finished, his face flushed and tensed into granite. Anger, contempt and loathing poured into his words as he spat, "I've got to be thicker than Mickey the Idiot! I've gone senile in my old age! This is no place for two children! They'd get us all killed; or worse yet, I'd get them killed! You're a smart woman, Melissa Morgan. Keep your kids away from me. I'm too dangerous!" His tirade over, he practically ran out of the TARDIS, slamming the door behind him.

Stunned, the rest of the group stared at each other until Rose softly spoke. "I'll go talk to him, yeah? Sometimes he gets kind of moody. I'm sure he didn't mean nothin' by it."

Quickly regaining her senses, Melissa put her hand on Rose's shoulder, "Don't go out there right now, Rose. Let him sort this out on his own."

"But, he needs me!" she protested.

Smiling kindly, Melissa agreed, "I'm sure he does. Just give him some space right now. You don't want to remind him that you're, what, only five years older than my kids?" Seeing that Rose was still thinking of following the Doctor, she gently added, "He's angry at himself; I must have said something that triggered that. Give him a while."

"How would you know?" Rose challenged irately. Taking care of the Doctor was her right, not some woman who didn't even know who he was.

"Because I was a military wife," she replied bitterly. Rose bit back her retort. The Doctor had said he was in a war, a war he lost; could this woman really understand that without being told?

"Rose," Jack added, "You know he won't want to talk about whatever it is right now. Besides, it's not like he can leave without us. We're the ones still inside the TARDIS. He'll come back sometime."

Defeated and outnumbered, the young woman reluctantly agreed. It was awkward standing together by the console just waiting, however. Mumbling vaguely about needing to do something in her room, she sped down the hallway without a backward glance.

Jack looked at Melissa apologetically, "She's just trying to help. They're very protective of each other."

"I can imagine," she responded wryly. Looking at her kids, who had wisely stood back and kept quiet the entire time, she offered, "How 'bout we find out how well stocked the kitchen is. I don't know about you, but I could do with some food."

"You can cook?" Jack asked incredulously as the twins readily agreed.

"I cook. What's so surprising about that?" Melissa asked as they walked down the corridors.

"Well, we don't usually cook in the TARDIS. Mostly we go out for chips or try the local delicacies," he explained. Opening the cabinets, he showed her that the kitchen was very well stocked with the basics.

"Look at all those bananas!" Susan exclaimed. "Could you make banana bread? We haven't had that in a while.

"Ooh, could you put the cream cheese icing on top?" Matthew begged. "Nothing in the world's better than cream cheese icing, isn't that what you say, Mama?"

Happy to be in a familiar environment, even if the kitchen did look a little odd, Melissa replied, "Tell you what. Everyone give me a hand, and we'll make banana muffins with cream cheese icing. That shouldn't take too long."

Trying to make conversation as they worked, she asked, "So, Jack, what kind of local delicacies have you tried lately?"

He was sorely tempted to tell her of the local delicacy standing before him that he would like to try, but reluctantly refrained. He had some standards, and did not make it a habit of flirting with gorgeous women in front of their children. So, he simply answered, "Rose and I went down to town yesterday, and she wanted to eat at some place called KFC. The fried chicken wasn't too bad, but the chips weren't worth eating."

"KFC?" Matthew excitedly began, "They've got KFC here! Can't be all bad then, can it, Sis?"

"I'll let you know after I see if they have Krispy Kreme here," she countered. All this talk of food was making her hungry, and she started eating one of the bananas she should have been mashing.

"What's Krispy Kreme?" Jack questioned as he pulled flour, sugar and baking soda from the higher shelves. "Is it finger-licking good, too?"

That got a hearty laugh out of Melissa. "Actually, it is finger-licking good, but that's from the icing. Have you ever had a doughnut, Jack?"

"Sure," he replied loudly, trying to be heard over the mixer. "Greasy, heavy, fried bread with a hole in the middle. Sometimes they're rolled in sugar. Had them once or twice in the London during World War II."

"Sounds like cake doughnuts, which are good, but nothing compared to a hot, glazed Krispy Kreme doughnut. They're so light they melt in your mouth. Then you get a buzz just from the amount of sugar in the glaze. Of course, I don't eat them too often; wouldn't want to start looking like a doughnut!" Melissa finished laughing.

"You look nothing like a doughnut," Jack commented appreciatively. "Much more likely to be confused with a Celtic goddess," he added, forgetting for a second that her children were even in the room.

She blushed a deep crimson. She couldn't help smiling, though, and Jack noticed that she had the cutest dimples when she smiled. Her children's snickers kept her from saying anything in reply. Jack silently cursed himself for forgetting they were around. Those two certainly had practice disappearing into the background. He wondered how good they were at eavesdropping.

"Can Captain Harkness show us around the TARDIS while the muffins are cooking?" Susan requested as the silence once again became awkward. She thought the captain quite handsome, and wondered if her mother would ever consider dating someone after her dad.

"Yeah," Matthew agreed, "I thought I saw a library last night. Maybe we could borrow a history book and see what's the same." Matthew had no opinion of the captain's looks, and never once considered whether his mother was content to be a widow after two years. He was, however, curious to find out what this new world was like, even if it was through reading.

"I've been outvoted," Melissa sighed. "Captain, would you mind taking them on a tour while I finish the icing?"

"For you, anything," Jack replied with a playful salute to show her he was teasing. He hoped that her use of his title did not indicate that she was angry at him for giving her a compliment.

Quickly, Susan and Matthew left with Jack to discover more wonders in the TARDIS. The icing was finished by the time the muffins came out of the oven, and it took only fifteen minutes for them to cool completely. Humming a lullaby from her childhood, Melissa quickly spread the icing on the banana muffins. She thought of looking for Rose, but realized that she did not know where her bedroom was.

The number of spiral staircases and the multiple levels of the ship confused her, so she decided that she would only get lost if she tried to go anywhere new. Walking back to the bedroom she had used the night before, she slipped out of her sandals to put her hiking boots back on. She would take some muffins to the Doctor, if she could find him.

She found him sitting comfortably on a large boulder halfway down the trail. He looked much calmer than when she'd last seen him, and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. He looked wistful-melancholy and wistful, Melissa decided. The bright blue sky was cloudless and the air was relatively warm, although the trail was slushy with melting snow. She was very glad that her hiking boots were made of Gore-tex. Carrying three muffins carefully in a paper bag, she silently offered them to the Doctor.

Surprised to see her, the Doctor took the proffered bag and looked inside. "Fantastic," he delightedly said as he saw the food. Biting into one, he told her, "Banana. I love bananas."

Deciding that 'fantastic' was as close to 'thank you' she was going to get, Melissa began to apologize. "Doctor, I didn't mean to insult you. I really am flattered that you would offer to take us with you. It's just my kids have had too much change in their life already. They need to stay in one place for a while."

Finishing the first muffin, the Doctor quickly stopped her apology. "No need to go apologizing. You didn't insult me. Forgot how dangerous the TARDIS can be that's all. Wasn't your fault you reminded me," He hoped she would not ask him exactly what he had been reminded of.

Nodding, she leaned against the boulder. It was easier to talk to him, somehow, when she didn't have to look at him. He reminded her so much of her husband Mark when he had come home from his second deployment. Mark had brought home a little piece of the war lodged in his soul; it appeared at odd times, usually with a quiet sadness. He hadn't come home from his third deployment.

Rubbing her temples to clear her head, she started talking, "It's funny, Doctor. My husband didn't have any family left. He was the only child of only children, and his parents passed away soon after we were married. They didn't even get to see our children born. I was raised by a grandfather who disowned me when I got married on my twenty-first birthday, and my brother is the only other family I have. He works for Doctors Without Borders and is away for eleven months out of the year. I moved ten times in seventeen years, and the only constant I had with me was my husband, and then my kids. My husband's been gone for two years, and Susan and Matthew are with me. Barring some tense regional conflicts, this world seems to be much like mine. So, why does it feel like I've lost everything I've ever cared about or known?"

Emotionally spent, she lapsed into silence. It had felt good to say what she was feeling out loud, even if it hadn't changed anything. She had meant her question to be rhetorical, so she was surprised when the Doctor answered her.

"You have lost everything. Only natural to feel like it. But you're lucky. You've got your kids, so you aren't alone. That's the most important thing to remember. You are not alone."

The Doctor saw Rose winding down the trail towards them. He quickly slid off the rock and turned to face Melissa. "So, I meant what I said, Melissa Morgan. We are going to help you. You've got an entire planet to choose from. Where do you want to live? We'll fix you and your children with birth certificates, identification, the works. It won't be easy, but you can make a good life here. Can't she, Rose?"

"You'll do great," Rose affirmed. She had reached them on the tail end of the conversation, but she was happy that Melissa seemed to be coping better with her new reality. Rose admired the woman who had been ripped from one world to stand in another. She was really keeping herself together. Even if it was for the sake of her children, it was still impressive.

"Rose, have you tried one of the banana muffins? They're fantastic!" the Doctor enthused. "And they have cream cheese icing on top." He handed her one, peeling the paper from the last one for himself. He'd only had coffee this morning and was glad to have something to eat.

Rose grinned. "I'm sure they must be good. Looks like you're hogging the last one for yourself, though. Not going to share with Melissa?"

"Don't worry Rose, I brought them for him," the woman assured her. She tried very hard not to laugh at the Doctor's face as he realized that he had been somewhat rude. His apologetic glance at her was somewhat marred by a smidgen of icing on his chin and a mouthful of muffin.

Tearing her gaze from the Doctor, Rose asked Melissa, "Are you going to stay in Colorado Springs?"

"I haven't really thought that far yet. We actually live in New Orleans. Had a nice house uptown. We were only here to do some hiking." Hesitating, she went ahead and confided, "We were living on the Academy when we were notified of Mark's death. We come back each year around the anniversary to hike Eagle Peak." Pausing, she added, "Guess we're not going to do that again. Matthew told me you called this Bad Wolf Summit?"

"It's what the locals call it," Rose confirmed when the Doctor didn't answer.

"You might want to stay in Colorado," the Doctor gravely stated, ignoring the conversation about the summit.

"Why?" Melissa asked, hesitantly. The tone of the Doctor's voice told her that she wouldn't like his answer.

"Matthew told me that you were hiking in May of 2010," he explained.

"Yes, 2010, all year," she confirmed.

Knowing that this wasn't going to be easy for her to accept on top of everything else, he decided to simply state the facts, "It's May of 2005, here. You were pulled back in time as well as into a parallel world."

"No," she whispered, horrified. "I can't go through that again. I wasn't there, but I saw all the news coverage. Over fifteen hundred people died in New Orleans. I can't make my kids go through that."

"Fifteen thousand people die," the Doctor corrected. "Parallel world, remember? Same storm, different outcomes."

"Doctor, isn't there something we could do to help those people?" Rose asked. She hated to hear of anyone suffering.

Surprisingly, it was Melissa who answered Rose, "Natural events like weather patterns, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions are all fixed points in time. They can't be changed, and to try to minimize their impact would strain the timeline."

She finished, bent over, and started to massage her temples again. Her head was really starting to hurt. She couldn't believe it; fifteen thousand people dead from Hurricane Katrina. It would be bad enough to see that on television. Susan and Matthew didn't need to experience the aftermath of living in a city of the dead and dispossessed, not after today.

"How do you know that?" the Doctor sharply commanded. He was staring intently at Melissa, as if she had suddenly sprouted another head.

Startled, she looked up and asked, "Know what?"

"You said that natural events were fixed points in time, and that trying to change anything around them was dangerous to the timeline." He hurled her words back at her. How did a human born in the twentieth century know anything about fixed points in time?

"I did?" she gritted out, her answer a question rather than a statement.

She was feeling overloaded, as if her senses were heightened to the point of pain. The accusing tone in the Doctor's voice was just adding to her headache. The gentle breeze was like acid on her skin. She closed her eyes to block out her sight, while the smell of the wildflowers was making her nauseous. Worst of all, there were perceptions pressing in on her that she had no idea how to describe. They made her dizzy and exhausted, and she found it difficult to talk. She doubled over as she tried to limit what she was experiencing.

"You okay?" Rose bit her bottom lip as she worried about the woman standing next to her.

"Migraine," Melissa explained shortly. She could no longer speak without her head feeling like it was going to split open.

Sensing that Rose was going to try to help her, she managed to cry out. "Don't touch!" Rose did, however, touch her. Melissa's mind exploded with images that she would not remember for a very long time. It was too much, and for the second time in two days, she fell unconscious.

"Guess I shouldn't ignore your instincts, Captain," the Doctor remarked gruffly as he carried a limp Melissa past Jack to the infirmary, laying her on the narrow bed.

"What's wrong with her?" he demanded, alarmed at her condition.

"Not a clue," the Doctor replied grimly, pulling out the sonic screwdriver and scanning her from head to toe. He obviously didn't like all the readings, because he scanned her head twice before looking up, his face dour.

Hurrying into the hallway, he called out for Rose, who was hovering nearby. "Find the kids. Take them somewhere for a couple of hours, but keep them away from here. Can you do that for me, Rose?"

"Yeah," she agreed quickly, knowing the Doctor must have a good reason for his request. "She's gonna be okay, though, right?"

"Should be, yeah," the Doctor finally agreed as he looked back and saw Jack sitting in the chair next to the bed anxiously holding the woman's hand. "Just need to ask her a few things. Might be easier if her kids were somewhere else."

Once Rose had gone, the Doctor grabbed a pair of pajamas from the wardrobe room and returned to the infirmary. "Help me get her changed, Jack. She's soaking wet. No sense in her getting hypothermia again."

Clinically, they removed her clothes and managed to put her in the pajamas, which were fluffy and pink. The Doctor was impressed with the Captain's detachment; he didn't as much as look at her breasts as he removed her shirt. Although, what they found on her back might have been enough to distract him from any lewd thoughts.

"What's wrong with her, Doc?"

He stopped pacing and regarded Melissa thoughtfully. "Her brain overloaded, Jack; simple as that. Only it's not really so simple because it overloaded when she was inside my mind pulling out information she couldn't possibly know."

Astonished, Jack turned to face the Time Lord. "Your mental defenses are better than anyone's I've ever met. How could she be in your mind?"

"Lots of ways she could be in my mind. Question you should be asking is how could she be in my mind and I not notice?" Again, he aimed the sonic screwdriver at her head, and this time his face relaxed slightly. "Going to have to ask her that once she wakes up."

"Think we can ask her how she got those scars? Because if someone did that to her on purpose, then I'm going to find them and kill them, parallel world or no."

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed his tone so forbidding that Jack wasn't sure if he was agreeing to ask her the question, or agreeing to kill whomever was responsible.

After a few minutes of unproductive pacing, the Doctor left, giving the Captain strict instructions to bring her to the console room once she was awake.

Waking gradually, Melissa tried to recapture her dreams. They had been troubled, with images of a concrete bunker and frightened children. The more she tried to remember, the wispier the images became, until she was left only with a vague sense of despair. Opening her eyes, she suddenly remembered that she was not in her bed at home, but in fact in an impossible spaceship on a mountain in a world only somewhat like her own. The handsome Captain Jack Harkness was sitting in a chair beside the bed in the infirmary, staring off into the distance with a small scowl on his face. As soon as she moved, his attention was focused on her, although the scowl remained for just a second.

"Hello, Sleeping Beauty." He smiled softly at her, not wanting her to see the worry in his face.

"Jack, she protested, "I'm not a beauty right now." Seeing that she was wearing some horrendously pink pajamas, most certainly Rose's, she added, "Pink is not my color for one thing." "By the way, who changed me?" she asked, turning the subject away from her looks.

"Rose," Jack answered, frowning. "Look, Melissa, we need to talk."

"I'm not talking to anyone until I get changed. Where are my clothes?" She responded defensively. She wanted to slow the conversation somewhat so that she could think a minute.

"Your clothes were wet from falling in the slush. You're lucky you didn't bang your head when you fell. Find something to wear and meet me and the Doctor in the console room. He's making some repairs, but wants to ask you some questions."

Jack's statements rang out like commands. As she nodded, he grinned, softening his tone. "Just make sure you're back in twenty minutes. Wouldn't want to think you pulled another sleeping beauty.

"I'm fine, Jack. It was just a migraine. I get them sometimes."

"Good," he answered, "you can tell that to the Doctor when you see him." With that, he walked out of the room, the frown on his face deepening as he left.

Wondering if it were possible to use all the clothes in the wardrobe room, Melissa pulled on some jeans and found a forest green v-neck jumper. Once again, she slipped her sandals on, and headed to the front of the TARDIS.

The Doctor and the Captain were waiting for her when she entered. They stood together; the Doctor leaned against the console with his arms crossed while Jack stood straight, as though at attention. They offered her a seat, which she took gratefully. However, they remained standing, and she suddenly felt like she was a small child summoned to the principal's office for a scolding or an interrogation. Susan and Matthew were nowhere to be seen, and neither was Rose. That too, made her quite uneasy.

Sensing the question before it could be raised, Jack explained, "Rose took your kids to the movies. They should be back in an hour. We thought it would be best if you were allowed to speak to us privately."

"Okay," she replied, drawing out her answer. Now she was completely confused. What could they say to her that was so confidential?

Crouching down so that he could look her in the eyes, Jack earnestly told her, "Melissa, before we go any further, we want to let you know that if you're actually from here, and maybe you're running from something or someone, we can help you. That's kind of what we do."

"What do you mean? The Doctor told me this isn't my home. I don't understand. Do you think I'm lying to you about Mark?" She was suddenly apprehensive, especially when she saw the expression on the Doctor's face. He looked extremely angry, although Melissa had the impression that he was not angry at her. Perhaps, she thought in an instant of clarity, he was angry on her behalf.

"No, but we want to help you if you're in some kind of trouble."

"How did you get those scars?" the Doctor asked abruptly.

Oh. Shame flooded her. Rose had certainly seen her back and shoulders when she was getting her into dry clothes. All three of them knew of her scars, and now they were demanding to know of her guilt. She almost laughed. No wonder Jack was reassuring her; they must have assumed that someone had hurt her. As soon as she opened her mouth they would understand that the scars were her justly deserved punishment. She wondered if they would be so quick to help her after they knew what she had done.

Bowing her head because she couldn't bear to meet Jack's eyes, Melissa decided that she would tell the ugly truth without trying to defend herself as she had done so many times in the past. In a whisper-quiet voice, she simply said, "They're from burns. When I was five, I was responsible for the fire that killed my family. My brother and I were the only survivors." There, it was said, and they could kick her and her children off the TARDIS as soon as they returned from the movies.

She had expected the Doctor to explode, to turn the anger she had seen on his face towards her and unleash it. She had expected the Captain to back away in disgust, but they both did the unexpected. Jack took his hand and tilted her chin upwards so that she was looking him in the eye. Wiping away the few tears that had fallen on her cheeks, he bent close and gave her a brief, tender kiss on the lips. The Doctor stooped down to look directly at her, and his face no longer contained the anger it had, but was now filled with a peculiar sort of sympathy.

"How were you responsible?" the Doctor questioned.

"Grandfather told me it was my fault everyone died," she answered quickly from habit. There was still a nauseated knot in the middle of her stomach, but she found it easier to talk about the fire than she expected.

"Did you start it?" he prodded, which got a reprimanding warning of 'Doc' from Jack, but the Time Lord ignored his protest.

"I've always assumed so. I don't actually remember the fire. My first memories are of the hospital. I never asked for any information about the fire until I was ten years old. Grandfather told me I was responsible for everyone's deaths, and I never asked again. Really, I honestly don't remember it; I just remember waking up in the hospital filled with pain."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor told her sincerely. Changing topics again, he asked, "You get headaches like that often?"

Taking hold of Jack's hand, she did her best to smile. "I haven't pulled a sleeping beauty, as Jack called it, since I was in college. The migraines are the results of flashbacks triggered by memories of the fire, or at least that's what my therapist told me at the time. I used to have them a lot growing up, but the last time I had one was when I was told Mark had died, although I didn't pass out then."

The Doctor stood abruptly. "Those aren't flashbacks."

"No?" she replied, slightly puzzled, unsure of what he was trying to tell her.

"No," he affirmed, although he did not explain further. Brusquely, he asked, "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I. . . . I baked muffins with the kids and Jack." Grinning shyly, she said, "He told me I looked like a goddess.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, although there was a twinkle in them. "Sounds like the Captain, alright."

When Melissa continued to look confused and apprehensive, he decided to explain what he had witnessed a bit more. "Those headaches of yours could be dangerous. The problem is that your brain was lit up like a Christmas tree. Every synapse of your brain was firing, and that has to have a physical cause. Dangerous, too; you're lucky it only lasted a few minutes."

"Are you saying I have a brain tumor?" she asked nervously, gripping Jack's hand tightly.

Grinning to show that she didn't have to worry about a tumor, the Doctor commented, "Nah, scanned for that, too. Just never heard of something like this happening in a human.

Reluctantly, he added, "There's another thing I could do; you could let me see inside your head. I could maybe see what triggers it." He couldn't believe that he was offering to go inside her head, however briefly. Sending Susan and Matthew to sleep yesterday had been the first time he had entered anyone's mind since the Time War. He really didn't want to be that intimate with a human when the emptiness in his own mind was so painfully loud, but he was curious.

"No," she said sharply, letting go of Jack's hand and jumping out of the seat. "I mean, no thank you," she amended in a calmer tone of voice. "I just don't want anyone or anything poking around my brain. I've had this my whole life. Maybe it's just a fun house mirror?"

"Maybe," he allowed, although he was still curious. There was something infuriatingly familiar with her headaches, but the connection, if there was one, would not come. However, he had to admit to himself that he was very thankful she had turned him down. Searching through her memories was not something he thought he could do; they were uncomfortably close to his own.

Anything else the Doctor might have suggested was cut off by the arrival of Rose, Susan and Matthew. "Thought you'd be gone longer," the Doctor told Rose sternly.

"Nah, nothing playing at the cinema worth seeing." She shrugged. "Decided to bring back something to eat. Everything alright?" She asked as casually as possible in front of her two teenage charges.

"Everything's fine," the Doctor answered tersely, effectively ending Rose's inquiry.

Everyone made their way to the kitchen to eat the huge burritos that Rose and the teens had brought back from town. The conversation was light-hearted and a relief to Melissa after the confession she had made to the Doctor and Jack. She still didn't understand why they hadn't been disgusted as soon as they had heard of her crime.

Growing up, her secret had come out in high school when she had been forced to take swimming lessons. The school counselor had called her grandfather for an explanation, and he had reluctantly come to the school to answer some of their questions. He had told the counselor that she was responsible for the deaths of her family, and the scars were the proof of her mistake. It only took a day for that story to spread throughout the school, and she spent her junior and senior years as a social pariah. No one wanted to be around the girl who had murdered her own mother and father.

Rose kept shooting glances at Melissa during dinner. She still wondered what had happened to the woman to make her faint. Susan finally noticed and with a mouth full of food, asked, "What's the matter, Rose?"

"What?" Rose answered, caught off guard by the question.

Before Susan had a chance to reply, Melissa answered. "She's just concerned about me, Susan. She saw my back when she was changing me, and most people don't faint from a headache right in front of you. Don't worry Rose, I'm fine. I was burned a long time ago, and those are the scars."

As Rose shot the Doctor a puzzled look, Matthew laughed. "No wonder she's freaked out, Mom; those scars of yours would scare anybody! And the whole fainting thing is a little bit too much drama queen."

"Drama queen?" she repeated in mock anger. "I'll have you know that Captain Harkness called me Sleeping Beauty. I think I like that name much better."

"Eew, that's way too sicky sweet!" His comment caused them all to laugh, including Rose, who wasn't quite sure what was going on, but intended to corner the Doctor later to find out.

When everyone had more or less finished their burritos, Susan asked if there was any dessert. A check of the cupboards revealed a small, crushed package of biscuits that looked quite unappetizing. Remembering their backpack, Melissa sent Matthew in search of the M&Ms she had added to the pack before their hike began. Ten minutes later, he came back carrying a plastic bag of the candy-coated chocolate pieces and a blue envelope.

"Look what was in the front of the pack. It's for you, Mom," he added, handing her the envelope.

Passing the bag of candy around the table, everyone waited for Melissa to open the envelope. She slit it open with her finger and found a note in her brother's hand. Making no sound as she read, she finally swallowed as if she had a piece of candy stuck in her throat.

"Just a letter from your Uncle Brad, Matthew. I guess he put it in the pack the night before we left. Looks like he wanted me to read it on the summit. It just says how much he liked your dad. Way too sicky sweet for you, I'm sure," she finished, tucking the letter in her jeans pocket.

Looking around, she noticed that her lie had been readily accepted by her kids. Of course it had been; she had only knowingly lied to her children once, when they had asked if their father had suffered much before he died. The three adults at the table were looking at her expectantly, however.

"Come on, you two, let's go see what else is in the pack. You never know when a good compass is going to come in handy." Trailing her children out the door, she paused to remove the letter from her pocket. Throwing it on the table, she left without a word.

Rose was the first to reach for the letter; after carefully unfolding it, she started to read out loud.

_"My dearest sister, I cannot know what state you will be when you read this, so please excuse me if I am being unnecessarily vague. I have long admired your courage and fortitude, and watching you grow has been a distinct honor. I know the journey I have sent you and your children on is a dangerous one, but I could not leave you stranded, so utterly alone. Now you will have the chance to be again with the man you love, and it is my desperate hope that you will be able to change his fate. When I see you next, I pray that you are in the arms of my brother, and that you will forgive me. Until that time, I bid you well." _

"Then it's signed with a fancy letter 'B'," Rose finished.

Grabbing the letter out of her hand, the Doctor quickly reread it. "This doesn't make sense," he said astounded. "Humans shouldn't have that level of technology."

"It doesn't make sense because her husband's already dead here, too," Rose added.

"Good point, Rose," the Doctor agreed. "Why would someone go through all that trouble to send Melissa and her kids to a parallel world and not make sure her husband's still alive?"

"Maybe it was an accident," Jack mused. "I mean, there must be an infinite number of worlds. Maybe her brother tried to send her somewhere else, but she ended up here."

"Good guess, Captain. But that's all we've got right now, guesses."

"Still," he said after a pause, "doesn't change anything. Melissa and her kids are here, and they'll need to find a place to live."

"Yeah," agreed Rose. "But, Doctor, that takes money, and I don't think they've got any money here."

"Got plenty of money, me," he countered.

"You!" She laughed in disbelief. "You don't even have enough money to buy me chips!"

"You're equating a lack of cash with a lack of money. Thought better of you, Rose Tyler." He smiled massively to let her know he was teasing.

Turning towards Jack, the Doctor asked, "Captain, have I ever told you about my employment with the United Nations Intelligence Task Force?"

"You held down a job with a bunch of dumb apes, Doc?" Seeing the Doctor's pleased nod of agreement, Jack answered, "Now this I've got to hear."

The Doctor regaled Rose and Jack with a few hair-raising tales from his days at UNIT. Then, businesslike, he explained his plans for helping Melissa and her family adapt to life in this world.


	3. Definitely Domestic

A/N - Well, I'm still learning as I go as I post this. Hope the mistakes aren't too noticeable. If The Emissary seems familiar to you, it's because I first posted it on Teaspoon about a year ago. There shouldn't be many differences, except for one. In this version, I'm doing my best to stick to a true teen rating. When I first wrote the story, I was trying to see what I enjoyed writing, and that meant writing everything. Here, I'm trying to go with less is more. If you're an adult who wants to read a more adult version, feel free to check it out there. I will warn you, though, I didn't enjoy writing those parts, which probably means they aren't very good.

* * *

><p>In the two days the TARDIS had been parked on the outskirts of Colorado Springs, the Doctor had been busy fabricating remarkably realistic identities for Melissa and her children. Since Mark Morgan had been an actual person in this world, he determined that he should not be listed him as the kids' father; it might cause problems later.<p>

"What'cha put on them, then?" Rose was curious enough to ask while the Doctor was putting the finishing touches on Susan and Matthew's birth certificates.

He shrugged as he bent over the console. "Just put John Smith."

"You can't use that!" Rose responded in outrage. Sometimes he could be so thick. "Nobody's going to believe their father's name was John Smith if he's not around. We can come up with something better, yeah?"

Growing up on the Estate had taught Rose how cruel others could be to children with absent fathers, and she wasn't going to let Susan and Matthew experience worse because the Doctor was clichéd in his choice of names. Not giving an inch, she glared at him as he leaned stubbornly against the console, arms crossed.

"Oh, look, trouble in paradise," Jack joked as he and Melissa walked inside the TARDIS. His flippancy earned him a light slap on the arm. "What are you two at odds about?"

"The Doctor is going to use John Smith as the kids' father's name, but I told him that no one would believe it!" Rose was irate, and hoped that the other two would see her point of view.

Suddenly somber, Melissa asked suspiciously, "Why can't Mark's name be on the birth certificates?"

Shifting uncomfortably, the Doctor hastened to explain. He had meant to tell her of his decision, but she had been out scouting neighborhoods with the Captain after deciding yesterday to stay in Colorado Springs.

"Mark Morgan already exists here, and he never married. Since he was military, his paper trail is quite extensive, and it wouldn't be smart to add two kids to the mix. You're going to have to use another name on the birth certificates." Pausing self-consciously, he gave a half shrug. "I've used John Smith in the past; didn't seem like a bad name to me."

"And I told him how nobody'd believe that one. Not without a father in the picture," Rose argued. "Might as well put unknown and be done with it."

"My kids are not having unknown on their birth certificates!" Suddenly angry, she ranted, "It's bad enough we can't get back where we belong. Now I have to pretend I didn't even know my own husband? What's next? Are you going to change my name, too? Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and everyone will call me Stephanie!"

Trying to play peacemaker, Jack put his arm around her. "Nobody's asking you to forget your husband, Melissa. The birth certificates are just stupid pieces of paper. The Doctor could put Abraham Lincoln on them and it wouldn't make Mark any less the kids' father."

Seeing that she was calming down, he added with a grin, "You can even use my name if that'll make you feel better. I may have borrowed it, but it has more flare than John Smith."

"Fine," she replied sulkily, feeling guilty that she was taking out her frustrations on the very people who had helped her. "Jack's name goes on the birth certificates, but I'm not telling Susan and Matthew."

"No need to," the Doctor agreed amiably. "Like Jack said, it's just a piece of paper. Doesn't matter what's on it so long as they can register for school." He shot the Captain an appreciative nod as soon as Rose led Melissa down the hallway to discuss that night's entertainment. Domestics, he was really starting to hate that word.

Once that argument was settled, it didn't take long to make Melissa and her children legitimate citizens of the United States, at least on paper. Using UNIT's computer network, he integrated her driver's license, their Social Security numbers and passports into the federal government's databases. Hacking into the various state governments' computer networks took only a few more minutes. Pleased with the results, he also opened a sizable bank account in her name, making her extremely uncomfortable. However, Rose wisely pointed out that inventing a plausible CV which could be independently verified would take some time, and it was unlikely that she would find gainful employment anytime soon.

Explaining smugly that Time Lords have little use for Earth currency, the Doctor informed Melissa that the funds had been sitting idle in a UNIT account for almost thirty years doing nothing but earning interest. The amount he had given her comprised less than half the total value of the account, and if he wanted to use the money to give three displaced humans a new start, then it was certainly his prerogative to do so. Jack had finally added that perhaps she was being too proud for her own good, and she reluctantly accepted the assistance.

The Doctor, she quickly surmised, while skilled at false identification and extremely generous in the sharing of his resources, was exceedingly uncomfortable with what he termed domestics. As the days stretched into a week, and then two, he spent much of his time inside the TARDIS tinkering. When even preventative maintenance began to lose its appeal, he took long, solitary hikes on some of the more remote hills.

Jack, however, approached the necessary house hunting and shopping with undisguised glee, marveling at the quaint technology and archaic customs. Rose was in her element, enjoying the marathon shopping trips. The twins quickly came to regard her as an older sister, eagerly seeking her advice about clothing and fitting in.

Melissa was thankful that Rose and the twins were getting along so well. Her kids showed no interest in looking for a house. Instead, they spent most of their days hanging out at the mall. Occasionally, Rose persuaded the Doctor to take them hiking, and they invariably came back with daring tales of rock climbing and near death experiences.

Jack, however, insisted on accompanying her to every appointment with the real estate agent. She would have been more grateful for this if he hadn't accosted the first realtor. The woman had not appreciated being propositioned while espousing the selling points of a hot tub during a tour of one of the more disappointing houses.

She had quickly taken them back to the agency to introduce them to Kyle, a good-looking young man whom the first agent assured her would better meet her needs. Melissa wasn't sure how well he met her needs as an agent, but he certainly met Jack's criteria. Kyle was much more receptive to Jack's advances, and readily gave the Captain his phone number.

Eight days, and twenty-seven unsuitable houses later, both she and Jack were surprised when yet another realtor introduced herself to them. The conservatively dressed older woman told them that she was the manager of the agency, and it was her goal to find them a suitable house today. When Jack looked like he just might flirt with this apparent grandmother, Melissa gave him a firm elbow to the ribs and he finally took the hint.

Thankful for the lack of distraction, she had to admit that Mrs. Denton did show her four houses in a new subdivision called Flying Horse that seemed perfectly suited for her children. In fact, when they were viewing the houses she noticed that quite a number of driveways sported basketball goals and cars with those annoying 'My child is an honor student' stickers on the bumper. There were plenty of kids in the subdivision, then.

The only drawback for her was that it was much too close to the nature preserve that in another world had been the U.S. Air Force Academy. She would be reminded pointedly of its absence every time she ran an errand. Maybe that was okay, though. There were still mornings when she woke up and needed the reminder.

While the houses were much bigger and more expensive than ones she had looked at previously, the neighboring high school had an IB program, an award winning band, and an art department, supposedly making it the best in Colorado Springs. That fact alone sold her on the subdivision. She chose the cheapest house of the four and surprised Mrs. Denton when she said that she would be paying cash. Papers were drawn up in record time, and two days later she was a proud homeowner.

Rose was delighted that the serious shopping could now begin. In a whirlwind afternoon, she and Melissa bought enough furniture to outfit the entire house. Jack had finally gotten tired of shopping, so he had offered to drive the kids to the Garden of the Gods, and the Doctor decided to join them at the last minute.

Returning late in the afternoon to the still empty house, Melissa and Rose began to thumb through an impressive stack of take-out menus in the kitchen. "Rose, I have to tell you, you've really got good taste. The table you picked out for the kitchen will be perfect in here."

"I liked it," Rose answered as she flipped through a take-out menu from Panda Express. "Hope it keeps the echoes down. This place sounds creepy without any furniture in it."

"It's not a home, yet," Melissa agreed, "but it soon will be." "I know!" she exclaimed, "We'll have a big barbecue as soon as all of the furniture's delivered." Then she added dully, "You'll be going after that."

"Yeah," Rose agreed uncomfortably, forgetting about the menus. She took Melissa's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll come back sometime and check on you, I promise. You're going to do great here."

"I hope so," she quietly answered. Brightening, she added, "You'll have to convince the Doctor to come back and visit. I'm not sure I'd take a bet on that one!"

"Oi! That won't be too hard. The Doctor takes me to see mum, and he likes you much better. Least you don't slap him."

Rose wondered how difficult it would be to get the Doctor to visit. It was true that he didn't usually go to places twice, but it was also true that he rarely said no to her. She definitely wanted to keep in contact with Melissa, Susan and Matthew. In just a few weeks they had become good friends.

"Least I can do is give you my mobile number," Rose added a few seconds later. "If you need anything, you can just phone."

"Thanks, Rose. I'm sure we won't need it, but it would be nice to have just in case."

Just then, two slightly sunburned teenagers, Jack and the Doctor entered through the back door. "Mom, guess what we brought back," Matthew called out as they found their way to the kitchen.

"Dinner!" Susan added, as she gave her mother a quick hug. "We went to the Trading Post and brought back buffalo burgers and fries for everyone."

"That sounds healthy," she answered with a trace humor as she smiled at the two men who had finally entered the kitchen.

The Doctor looked self-conscious. "Well, Rose hasn't had chips in a while. Thought she might like some."

"Hey, don't blame me!" Rose protested, although she immediately took a bag and began to eat the chips.

Laughing, Melissa relented. "Rose certainly deserves some fries after that marathon shopping trip. Hope they're still hot."

Standing around the kitchen eating their burgers and chips, both groups shared their day with the other. Matthew and the Doctor discussed the geologic processes that had created the stunning rock formations at Garden of the Gods. Rose had everyone laughing at the deferential treatment she and Melissa had received in the stores once the salespeople realized that they were willing to spend significant amounts of money. Melissa likened it to Julia Roberts' shopping spree in _Pretty Woman_, which led to a long explanation of the movie to Jack, who quite enjoyed the concept of a hooker as Cinderella.

Once the trash from dinner was thrown away, Melissa began to explain her idea of a farewell barbecue. The Doctor was agreeable; perhaps knowing when they would finally leave had made him more tolerable of domestics. "So," she finished, "the bedroom furniture gets delivered day after tomorrow, and the rest is going to be delivered the day after that. We can have the barbecue that night, if that's okay with you, Doctor."

"Don't see why not. Got plenty of time, me," the Doctor agreed.

She appreciated his answer, even if she knew that he was lying. It had been apparent to everyone that he would have preferred to leave as soon as he had given her the bank account, but his companions had overruled him.

"Great!" Changing topics, she proposed to Rose, "Why don't we watch _Pretty Woman_ tonight? I think Jack will appreciate Julia Roberts."

"Do we have to?" Matthew complained. "Why can't we watch _Star Trek_ instead?"

"Because that movie doesn't come out for four years, moron," Susan interjected.

"Got both in the TARDIS databanks," the Doctor offered. Quickly agreeing on the two films, the group made their way back to the TARDIS and settled in for a night at the movies.

Melissa decided that IKEA was a boon in any universe. Since the furniture wasn't being delivered until tomorrow, she had gone early in the morning to buy bookshelves for the fourth bedroom. When she returned several hours later with the do-it-yourself project, it caused quite a commotion among Jack, the Doctor and Rose.

They made several jokes about shelves, screwdrivers and resonating concrete, which had flown over Melissa and the children's heads. They also offered to help, but she wanted to accomplish something on her own; after all, she would be on her own again very soon. Shooing them all out of the house, she picked up the directions and started to assemble the shelves.

Several frustrating hours later, six tall, narrow wooden bookshelves were finally finished and ready to be placed against the wall. Wishing she were just a bit taller as she struggled to attach the wall clamps to the top of the shelves, she did not hear Jack until he was right behind her.

"How's it going?" he asked, and she startled involuntarily, her foot slipping off the small ladder she was precariously perched atop.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he apologized as he caught her in his arms.

"Jack!" she cried indignantly, although her cry ended in a slight squeak as she suddenly realized that he was holding her quite close and her entire body was warming enthusiastically.

Grinning, he placed her carefully on a lower step of the ladder, so that she was at eye level with him. He brought his mouth to hers and began to kiss her much more passionately than he had done in the console room a few weeks ago. She responded with the same level of eagerness until his hands began to roam.

"Don't," she gasped as she used every ounce of willpower to push him backwards.

"Why not?" he asked confused, taking a step closer to her.

"I can't. The kids," she babbled, her face red and her heart thudding. She stepped off the ladder and ducking under his arm, backed up into the middle of the room.

"Your kids are off with Rose buying stuff for their rooms, and the Doctor is in the TARDIS working on the dimensional stabilizer," he reassured her as he moved close to her.

Melissa once again took a step backwards to address him. "I want to, Jack," she admitted, "but I have responsibilities to my kids, and I'm not going to have sex with you."

"It's just sex," he replied, puzzled.

"It's just sex to you," she amended, remembering the awkward conversation Rose had had with her, explaining the fifty-first century and Jack's attitudes about sex. The problem was he looked upon sex as a recreation, devoid of any emotional attachments while she saw it as much more.

"And to you?" Jack asked quietly, once again uncomfortably close to her, his hands gently pushing her hair back and tucking it behind her ears.

"It's more than that," she answered hoarsely, painfully aware of his closeness.

"What is it then?" he asked, as he bent even closer towards her.

"It's-" She paused, struggling to verbalize the conflicting thoughts in her head.

"Look, Jack," she began again, taking yet another step backwards, "You're from the fifty-first century. I get that. Sex is just sex, and it doesn't mean much more than an erotic amusement. But I was born in the twentieth century, where sex is complicated. For me, it's friendship and romance, but it also binds two people together, whether it's once or one hundred times. It's about passion, but it's private, and it's most of all about trust."

She spoke in a rush, unsure if she was making sense, either to herself or to him. Looking into his face, she could see that her words had affected him, but in what way she was unsure.

"You don't trust me," he said quietly, looking deeply into her emerald eyes.

"No," she answered angrily taking a huge step back, only to hit the wall, "I mean, of course I trust you, you stupid ape! Did you listen to what I just said? You can have sex with five thousand different people for all I care, but if you have sex with me, it means something different entirely, do you get that?"

"I've been listening," he argued passionately, "and now you're going to listen to me. I've been watching you. You've been thrown into an impossible situation, and you've adapted without whining or giving up. You're from a primitive century, but you've accepted aliens and impossible ships and time travel. You are stunningly beautiful, but you don't see yourself that way, and you take my breath away. You are different, don't you get that?"

His body was once again uncomfortably close. She felt a thrill as he bent lower to whisper huskily in her ear, "I'm leaving in two days. I can't promise you forever, but I can promise the time we have left."

Sensing her hesitation, he placed his finger under her chin and tilted her head upwards. Gazing directly into her eyes, he continued, "I've seen you put your children first time and time again. You'd be on the TARDIS now exploring all of time and space with us if you didn't put those kids first. I saw it in your eyes; don't deny it."

Seeing her slight nod of acceptance, he added, "You bought this house not because you particularly wanted it, but because your children can go to the best school in the city if you live here. You do everything for them, and I admire you for that, but it's time you did something for yourself.

Gently, he trailed his finger along her cheek, bending close to her once again. Sucking lightly on her right earlobe, he whispered, "And I am very skilled at being discreet, although I can't promise to be completely quiet."

Her defenses finally crumbled, and she eagerly sought his touch. It was only the Doctor's noisy approach not two minutes later that kept them from enjoying each other more.

Jack quickly assumed a neutral stance, congenially helping the Doctor to finish attaching the shelves to the wall. By the time they had installed the bookshelves, Rose, Susan and Matthew had returned with cans of paint. The rest of the afternoon was spent painting Susan's room a bright, sunny yellow, and Matthew's a royal blue.

Once they had finished painting the two rooms and, to a lesser extent, themselves, the group quickly decided to go back to the TARDIS for the night to escape the smell. Melissa fixed pancakes for supper, although she found it difficult to concentrate on dinner while Jack was so close to her, yet beyond her reach. She had firmly tamped down her sexuality for so long, that it was difficult now to rein it in. She settled for making significant glances at him while no one else was looking. He, being Jack, managed to innocently brush against her several times sending shivers down her spine.

Rose and the teens enthusiastically decided another movie marathon was in order. They roped the reluctant Doctor into it by promising to let him rant at the sci-fi movies they had chosen. Jack agreed to watch, but declared he would be leaving after the first one to do some maintenance on his wrist comp. Melissa declined the movie marathon altogether, saying she was going to do some writing in her room.

Halfway into _Galaxy Quest_, Jack announced that he was going to go to his room. His announcement barely registered with Rose, Susan and Matthew, who were trying unsuccessfully to argue that the movie was supposed to be a comedy as the Doctor made snide comments about the technical flaws. Jack slipped out and headed to the kitchen. He was still debating which wine to take to Melissa's room when the Doctor entered.

Startled, Jack blurted out, "What are you doing in here?"

"Getting some popcorn," the Doctor replied calmly. "Thought I'd ask you if you knew what you were doing," he added in a tone that made it obvious he wasn't talking about Jack's raiding the wine rack.

Jack should have known the Doctor would have been more perceptive than everyone else. It was his ship after all. "I know exactly what I'm doing, Doc," he answered testily.

"You coming with us in a few days, Captain?" The Doctor continued as if Jack had not answered.

"What? Yes, I'm going with you," he replied hotly, not liking the turn in the conversation.

"She know that?" he asked, calm as ever.

"None of your business," Jack snapped.

"Whole ship's my business, Captain. Designated driver, me. So, I'm asking you again, she know that?" he repeated, still unruffled, but demanding a response.

"She knows," he finally acknowledged, half angry at the Doctor for butting into his private life, and half grateful that he was looking out for Melissa's well being.

Nodding, the Doctor did not comment directly. Instead he merely noted as he walked out of the kitchen with a gigantic bowl of popcorn, "The 3348 Chateau Orion is particularly good. I highly recommend it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa woke from her nightmares with a strangled sob. Her distress roused the man sleeping next to her, and he protectively wrapped her in his arms. As his hand stroked her bare shoulder, she felt a moment of disorientation. Mark had always slept soundly through her nightmares. Mark never slept with his arms around her. Mark never felt this perfect against her skin. Realization immediately slammed into her. Mark was dead; Jack was comforting her. Turning quickly towards him, she cried in his arms.

"Hey," he said soothingly, "it's just a nightmare."

"Yeah," she agreed when she finally stopped crying.

"Want to tell me about it?" he gently asked while running his hand through her tangled hair.

Surprisingly, she did want to tell him. She was used to pretending nothing was wrong in front of her children, but she desperately missed having a confidant. Idly rubbing his back with her free hand, she began, "I'm talking to someone, but I can't see his face. I tell him that I'm ready to die."

He tensed at her words but remained silent.

"Anyway," she continued in a rush, "the voice asked me if I'm willing to suffer instead. I always say yes. Then . . . ."

"Then?" he prodded after she had lapsed into silence.

Her hand moved from his back to rub her forehead absentmindedly. "Then, I feel the flames."

"Do you always get headaches after?" he asked concerned, as she continued to rub her forehead.

"Yes," she answered as he began to massage her neck. His hands were incredibly skilled, and her headache faded away as she relaxed against his touch.

"How often do these nightmares bother you?" Jack asked gently when he sensed that she was calming. When she did not answer, he repeated the question. "Melissa, how often?"

"Every night," she finally replied, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Every night since you've been here?" he queried, thinking that three weeks was a long time to suffer.

Shaking her head, she responded with a small sob, "Every night since I can remember."

"I'm so sorry," he told her, frustrated that he can do nothing more to help her. Tucking her into him, he whispered in her ear, "Sleep."

Encased in his protective embrace and comforted by the heat of his body, she quickly fell back asleep. The rest of her night was peaceful, with no more nightmares. Jack, however, was troubled, and spent several hours listening to Melissa's steady breathing, until he, too, finally let slumber take him.

The next day was spent arranging the furniture in the four bedrooms. Melissa had chosen a cherry bedroom suite in the craftsman style for herself. The master bedroom was huge, so she had included a denim overstuffed chair and a small writing desk in addition to the queen-sized bed, mirrored armoire and dresser.

Rose commented that it was lucky they were all now acclimatized to the high altitude, since Melissa had changed her mind twice about how the room was to be arranged. She was quick to point out that it had been the Doctor and Jack who had done the actual furniture moving. Rose had no right to complain about her few moments of indecision.

Matthew knew exactly where he wanted his black metal furniture to go, and spent most of his time hooking up his computer to the internet. The Doctor gave the state of the art notebook a slight upgrade while Melissa was distracted by Susan's comments that her brother's room could almost pass for a jail cell, barring the blue walls. Agreeing privately with Susan's sentiment, Melissa vowed to find some posters to make Matthew's room less sterile.

Susan had insisted on a pair of white canopy beds. Her mother knew that she would be too old for the look in a year or two, but hadn't had the heart to deny her daughter's request. The red gingham padded vanity was definitely too much, but Rose had insisted that it went with the overall look, and Susan was immensely pleased. Sighing in exasperated acceptance, Melissa left the two girls in Susan's room to talk about all the boys Susan would meet in her new school come August.

The fourth bedroom was intended to function as both an office and a guest bedroom. It was simple, containing only a bed, side table, desk and a wall of shelves. The shelves were empty, giving the room a neglected feel, but Melissa knew that a few visits to the nearby used book store and a month of Susan's art classes would fill them to the brim. When the shelves are full, this house will finally be a home, she thought as she, the Doctor and Jack left the room to make lunch.

After an early dinner of Chinese takeout, the Doctor proposed that they take the TARDIS to Bad Wolf Summit for some stargazing. He explained that he wanted to show them a spectacular meteor shower that would be at its peak after midnight. He then casually suggested that Jack stay behind to help Melissa hook up the new entertainment system, television, DVD player and internet connection.

Matthew teased his mother about her lack of technological skills, but she accepted his ribbing with good grace. She didn't know if the Doctor had given her the evening alone with Jack accidentally or by design, but she was very grateful for the result.

Waving goodbye to Susan and Matthew, Melissa decisively shut the front door and locked the deadbolt. Jack was pressed against her before her hands had moved from the lock. Gently, he removed the pins from her hair, undoing her loose French braid as he massaged her scalp.

"Ready for bed?"

She was so ready she wasn't sure she'd make it to the bed. Mindful of appearances, however, she asked breathlessly, "Shouldn't we be hooking up the TV stuff first? It's complicated."

"I think I can manage primitive twenty-first century technology. Let's play before work."

When she was sleeping soundly several hours later, he reluctantly left her bed to set up the electronic equipment in the den. It was much more difficult than he believed it would be, or maybe he was distracted. They had had sex three times that night and twice the night before. While the acts themselves had been pleasant enough, he was overawed by her reaction. Each time she had responded as if he had given her something precious, something that would be cherished long after he had left, and that thought humbled him. It was a lot to think about as he struggled to attach the proper wires to the crude electronic devices.

The group returned to the house around 2:00 AM to find Jack playing MarioKart on the Play Station. "Cool, Captain Jack," Matthew enthused. "You're going to have the high score, at least 'til I get to play. Where's Mom?"

"She's asleep, I think," he replied offhandedly while still playing the game. "We got tired waiting for you to come back. Did you know that this television gets one hundred channels and there still wasn't anything your mom wanted to watch?"

"She's a stick in the mud," Matthew agreed as he watched Jack finish the race. "Can I play?"

Susan quickly interjected, "It's way late, and the Doctor promised to show us that prairie dog colony he found in the morning."

"Yes, Mom," Matthew grumbled sarcastically, but went towards his room to get ready for bed anyway.

"See you tomorrow, Rose," Susan called out, yawning, as she, too, went to her bedroom.

Once the teens were settled in their new rooms, Rose and the Doctor walked hand in hand to the door. "You coming, Jack?" Rose asked. "I'm tired, and I don't want to watch you play that game all night. You're no better than Mickey with that thing."

Jack looked up from the video game. If he wanted to keep his relationship with Melissa private like she had requested, it looked like he was going to have to leave. He wouldn't be able to keep her nightmares away tonight. Putting away the Play Station, Jack followed them out the door and back to the TARDIS.

Both Jack and the Doctor were up early the next morning. They met in the kitchen as each fixed a large cup of strong coffee to start the day. "Thanks for last night," Jack told the Time Lord as he practically gulped his coffee.

"Not a problem, Captain," the Doctor replied as he sipped his at a slower pace. "Meteor storm wasn't half bad, and Matthew is entertaining. He's intelligent for a human, even if he is fifteen. Rose really likes them both. It's going to be hard for her to leave tomorrow."

"Yeah," Jack agreed, thinking of how difficult it would be for him. "So," he said grinning, deliberately changing the subject, "prairie dogs, Doc?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, "Doing my best to be entertaining, and don't call me Doc, Captain. Besides, prairie dogs are at least a two hour hike, maybe three if Rose gets tired; then we got to eat lunch and come back." Casually, as if he had just thought of it, he added, "Might be best for you to stay here with Melissa. Not sure we'll be back in time for that final furniture delivery at one."

"You're doing all this for me?" Jack gaped at him, astonished.

"Doing what?" he asked, a goofy grin suddenly on his face.

After a second, he sobered and told Jack gravely, "Maybe I'm doing it for her. Doesn't seem like she's had the easiest life, even before she ended up here. Those headaches of hers, they're dangerous. That amount of brain activity could kill her if it goes on for too long. No wonder she doesn't remember her first few minutes on the TARDIS; I think the memory loss and loss of consciousness must be a last defense before her mind is damaged permanently."

"No, she hasn't had the easiest life," Jack agreed. "She has nightmares, you know," he continued after a minute, staring at the dregs in his coffee cup. "Same damn nightmare, every night. Someone tells her she needs to suffer, and then she burns, every night. I don't know how she stays sane."

"Like I said, Captain, doing it for her." Finishing his coffee, the Time Lord hastened out of the room. Melissa's nightmares sounded uncomfortably close to his own. It was difficult enough for him to maintain his own sanity; he couldn't imagine the willpower of a human who went through the same type of pain. The least he could do was let her have a few hours peace with Jack.

Too soon for everyone, except perhaps the Doctor, Melissa's promised barbecue was over. The huge T-bone steaks had been eaten, the baked potatoes had been loaded, and the marshmallows had been roasted over the dying coals. They were all stuffed, but reluctant to declare the day finished.

Eventually, however, the farewells began. Rose cried; Susan cried; even Matthew cried, although he would deny it later. Sniffing back tears, Melissa said goodbye to Jack, although their simple hug was frustrating for the former Time Agent, who was used to more public displays of affection.

Running out of patience, he exuberantly picked her up, spinning her several times in the air; then he put her down and kissed her soundly. Grinning mischievously, he asked, "How's that for discreet?"

"Ew," Matthew complained as he came to stand next to them, "That's just gross. You're kissing my mom, Captain Jack."

"See, Jack?" Melissa retorted, although she had a wide grin on her face.

"I knew it!" Rose shouted as she ran to give Melissa an extra hug.

"Should of known he couldn't be discreet," the Doctor added as he and Susan reached the group. "The Captain's definition of discreet is to park his spaceship next to Big Ben during the Blitz, not a good indicator, that."

"Hey," Jack protested, affronted. "I think she liked it, Doc."

"Jack!" Melissa shrieked.

"Best be off before you manage to really put your foot in it," the Doctor said, as he began to walk towards the TARDIS.

Before the Time Lord could pull out his key, he was engulfed in a fierce hug by Melissa, Susan and Matthew. "Hey", Melissa smiled fondly at him, "you didn't really think we'd let you leave without thanking you for all you've done for us, do you?"

As Rose and Jack caught up to the foursome, they noticed that the Doctor was both pleased and acutely embarrassed by the family's display of affection. "Not good with goodbyes, me," they all heard him mumble, as Melissa and her kids stepped back to spare his remaining dignity.

With Rose's promise to keep in touch, the newly transplanted family of three watched the TARDIS fade from view. Letting the tears well in her eyes, Melissa was certain that it was the last time she would see those extraordinary people. In that, she was very much mistaken.


	4. Fun House Mirrors

Rose and Jack were attempting to hide their snorts of laughter from the Doctor, but were failing miserably. He had just returned to the console room after scrubbing green goo from himself and his leather jacket. Their trip to Raxacoricofallapatorius had gone off without a hitch, until the Doctor had tripped inside the egg hatchery and landed flat on his back in the middle of a pool of incubation gel. His Time Lord decorum had suffered mightily until the trio had finally been able to retreat to the TARDIS.

After seeing Rose and Jack's faces of glee, the Doctor finally admitted how funny the situation was, and began to laugh as well. The sharp ring of Rose's mobile brought their frivolity to an abrupt halt. Crossing his arms, the Doctor wondered if Jackie Tyler was calling her daughter. She had never called before; she didn't trust the technology, saying it would ring when Rose was forty, not twenty.

Maybe it was Shireen; she called Rose occasionally to chat. It was always amusing to hear Rose talk to her friend and make up stories of their trips around the globe. He didn't think it would be Mickey the Idiot so soon after their trip to Cardiff. Rose had injured his pride the last time they had parted; surely he would wait a while before calling again.

"Hi!" Rose brightly started, "I didn't expect to hear from you."

Not Shireen, then, the Doctor thought; must be Jackie-better not be Mickey. When Rose's face suddenly turned grim, he moved towards her and began to input the Powell Estate's coordinates into the TARDIS control systems. Whatever Jackie was telling her must be bad indeed.

Jack, too, was concerned as he listened to Rose's side of the conversation. "What?" she asked in disbelief. "You know that's not true," she affirmed staunchly. "They're going to what?" she asked, more agitated. "Well, we're not going to let them do that, I promise."

"Did they say how bad it is?" she questioned intensely, waving her hand at the Doctor in dismissal as he tried to question her as she talked on the phone.

"Yeah, that's bad," she agreed in a small voice after a few seconds of listening. "We'll be there as soon as we can. What's the date and exact time?"

"Okay," she replied. "What's the name of the hospital?" "Yeah, I got it, don't worry. We'll be there in a couple of minutes." "No, you did the right thing calling; don't worry; we'll be there in a minute. Bye."

"Rose?" the Doctor questioned softly as he squeezed her hand. "Jackie okay? Which hospital is she in?"

"What?" Rose asked distractedly. "It's not Mum," she reassured the Doctor, while looking sadly at Jack. "It's Melissa. She's, uh, she's bleeding internally, and the doctor's haven't been able to stop it." Biting her lower lip, she continued, "They told the kids that she did it on purpose, that she tried to commit suicide. They're going to send them to a foster home if they can't find any family."

"NO!" Jack exploded. "I don't believe it. She wouldn't have done anything like that! They're wrong."

"Calm yourself, Captain," the Doctor ordered. "Don't know anything, yet." Frantically inputting coordinates, he asked, "What's the date, Rose?"

"Susan said it was July 30, 2005, 6:45 PM. Her mum's at Colorado Springs Memorial Medical Center," Rose answered concisely.

"That's only month or so later," Jack noted, his entire body tense.

"And we'll be there in less than five minutes," the Doctor reassured him. "Jack, go to the wardrobe room and find a suit. Rose, find something similar. We're going to have to bluff our way in." He began to frantically flip switches around the console.

The TARDIS landed quietly in the hospital's garden, which doubled as a patient smoking area. Rose quickly went over the Doctor's plan in her head as they walked briskly towards the main entrance. She, The Doctor and Jack were going to pose as friends and co-workers from UNIT, if anyone thought to ask. The Doctor was posing as an actual physician this time so he could have access to Melissa's chart, and hopefully would be able to examine Melissa himself. Rose would handle the social workers and take custody of Susan and Matthew.

Jack would be available to assist either one of them, although Rose privately wondered if the Doctor shouldn't have asked Jack to wait in the TARDIS. Her friend was so agitated that he was muttering in three different languages, two of which weren't native to Earth. If he wasn't careful, he would jeopardize their plan; psychic paper could only do so much.

Wishing that she could have worn her trainers instead of the conservative blue pumps that went with her blue pantsuit, Rose steeled herself as she entered the automatic doors of the hospital. The Doctor took his place on her right side, but not before giving Jack a brief, reassuring pat on his shoulder. Rose was glad to see that the gesture seemed to calm the Captain, who took his place to the left and slightly behind her.

He looked older and more commanding in his black suit. Gone was his carefree attitude and playful banter, and Rose realized once again just how much Jack reminded her of the Doctor. Reassured, she took a deep breath as they walked purposely towards the information desk.

"Can I help you?" the plump woman wearing a gaudy, rhinestone studded red shirt asked when the trio reached the information desk.

"My sister was brought in today," Rose replied with real concern in her voice. "My niece called and we got here as soon as we could. I need to find them."

"Of course," the woman smiled sympathetically. "Can I have your sister's name, please?"

"Melissa Morgan," Rose replied, trying not to bite her lip. Surely it wouldn't be that simple?

The information lady typed Melissa's name into the computer and stared at the screen much longer than necessary. She seemed somewhat nervous as she looked up and said, "Could you wait here a moment? There seems to be a problem with my computer. I'll just be a minute."

Rose nodded, glad that the woman couldn't see the Doctor take her hand a give it a tight squeeze. She was incredibly tense. It was taking more than a few minutes for the woman to return, and she hoped that their deception had not been uncovered before it had even started. She felt like a fraud wearing posh clothes and pretending to be someone she wasn't. Surely, they would notice that she was barely twenty, and only pretending to be anyone that mattered.

She straightened as she caught sight of the bejeweled lady returning with a tall man wearing a very expensive looking gray suit and a uniformed policewoman. Here goes nothing, she thought.

"Miss?" The man in the suit began, "Would you and your friends please come with me?"

"It's Tyler, Rose Tyler" Rose responded to his unspoken question. She wondered if this were some sort of test; Susan should have already mentioned her name. Nodding curtly, the man began to lead them down a corridor.

As they walked towards a set of offices, Rose peered closely at the man's employee badge. She noted that he was a hospital administrator by the name of Ronald Lund. "Mr. Lund," she stated assertively, "Please take me to see my sister and her children. Susan called very upset, and I'm worried about all three of them. Where are they?"

Gesturing to the group that they should enter his office, he offered them seats and began to speak. "Miss Tyler," he began nervously, "I'm sorry about the delay in seeing your sister. However, the police are investigating the circumstances pertaining to her admittance, and I'm afraid Lieutenant Simmons would like to ask you some questions before you see Ms. Morgan. I've told the officer that she may use my office, as we don't want you to suffer any unnecessary attention should she choose to ask her questions in the lobby. I'm sure you will understand."

Rose was about to protest when the Doctor, who had not bothered to sit, impatiently addressed Mr. Lund. "We were told that Melissa's condition was critical. Certainly the questions can wait."

"I'm sorry, who are you?" the administrator asked.

"Dr. John Smith," the Doctor promptly answered, adding his sometimes alias in order to avoid confusion in this situation. "And, I'd like to speak to Melissa's attending physician immediately."

It was the dark skinned policewoman who answered the Doctor. "There are some questions about Ms. Morgan's home situation that CSPD would like to have answers to, Dr. Smith. If you are her personal physician, perhaps you could answer a few questions about the scars on her back? Or if she was taking any sort of prescription medication for depression," the woman finished.

"Damn it! Just take us to see her! You're wasting our time!" Jack yelled at both the administrator and policewoman, losing his patience rather spectacularly.

"Jack," Rose warned, "we're all upset. Just calm down."

"Jack Harkness?" the woman questioned sharply.

"What's it to you?" he shot back, not caring how she had learned his name.

"I just thought that as Susan and Matthew's father, you would be concerned about their welfare. Or perhaps you're afraid their mother will regain consciousness? Did you poison her? How long have you been in Colorado?" Lt. Simmons' tone was both accusing and insulting at the same time.

"What? What the hell are you accusing me of?" Jack asked half-crazed with anger.

The Doctor put his hand on Jack's right arm in a restraining gesture. "Easy, Captain." Then, he bored his eyes into the officer. "Can't have it both ways, Lieutenant. If Melissa supposedly tried to commit suicide, then Jack couldn't have poisoned her."

"Now," he turned to press the full force of his gaze on the spineless hospital administrator, "I'm a reasonable man, me. But, if you don't take us to see Melissa and her children right now, you are going to regret it. What's your choice?"

Gulping, Ronald Lund wished he had called in sick that morning. Really, it was too much. Knowing that the police had no right to detain any one of the three people waiting anxiously and impatiently in his office, Lund quickly decided that he would take them to see the patient, if she was still alive. He did not wish to be responsible for the lawsuit that might arise if Ms. Morgan died before her family could see her.

Placing a fake, tight smile on his face, he stood up. "I'll take you to ICU now, of course. Although I'm not sure any of you will be able to see her. She's in critical condition, and the doctors have been unable to determine a course of treatment." "I'm sorry for the inconvenience," he added lamely, as they followed him down yet another hall to the elevators.

The group of five entered the elevator in complete silence. Rose duly noted that the police officer was not about to let them leave without following. Jack numbly watched the administrator punch the number seven as he worried about Melissa. Susan and Matthew must have found their birth certificates, he thought dully, or perhaps the school had them on file. He had forgotten about it until the officer had mentioned it. At least he would be able to take them home, and he should get to see her, as long as he wasn't going to be questioned about attempted murder.

That is what the officer had implied, wasn't it? It made Jack sick to his stomach to even think of someone hurting her. Vowing to keep his temper in check, he prepared himself for the worst as he stepped off the elevator into the dingy, fluorescent lit, white corridor.

"Hate hospitals, me," the Doctor whispered to Rose as they, too, stepped into the corridor. This time she gave his hand a gentle squeeze in support. He clinically noted the bank of intensive care beds behind the glass off to the left. He could see that Melissa was the only one in this section, and that she had at least five doctors and nurses hovering over her. That was never a good sign.

Leaving Rose behind, he strode quickly to the nurses' station and presented the psychic paper to the nurse at the desk. "Dr. John Smith, Scientific Advisor to UNIT. I'm currently on loan to the CDC and have been asked to look into Melissa Morgan's case. I would like to examine the patient immediately."

Oh, no, the administrator groaned to himself as he overheard the Doctor. Why does everything have to be complicated? I just detained an advisor to the Centers for Disease Control; it'll be my job if I'm not careful. Glaring at the policewoman, whom he blamed for most of his troubles, he then addressed Jack deferentially, "Sir, if you would come this way, I can take you and Ms. Tyler to the waiting room to be with your family. The nurses will let you know when you can see Ms. Morgan. Colorado Springs Memorial Medical Center again apologizes for your delay, and if you need anything, please contact me personally."

Nodding, Jack followed Mr. Lund into the waiting area. Rose relaxed somewhat. At least she wouldn't have to prove to anyone that she really was Melissa's sister. With Lt. Simmons shadowing their every move, she thought she'd be much too nervous to convince anyone. Entering the large, bleak waiting room, she was practically pushed over by Susan as the girl rushed to give her worried hug.

Matthew ran to Jack and did the same. "Dad, we thought you'd never get here!"

Jack hugged Matthew tightly. The boy had both been crying, and was obviously in need of some reassurance. However, he was collected enough to call him dad in front of the police; Jack was impressed.

Wiping the sudden tears from her eyes, Rose looked at Susan. "Hey, the Doctor's gonna fix this, yeah?"

"Hope so." Reluctantly, Susan slumped into one of the blue padded chairs.

Matthew awkwardly patted the Captain's back, "It'll be okay, Dad," he reassured him. "Mom's going to be fine, you'll see." Matthew was embarrassed, especially by calling the Captain his dad, but Jack's hug had made him feel much more hopeful, and that Lt. Simmons was still hanging around.

After some small talk, no one spoke in the waiting room. There were still too many people who could potentially overhear, and they were all terribly worried about Melissa. While Jack had the same faith in the Doctor as Rose, knew that sometimes things did not happen as they should, and worried more than anyone in the room. He wished that he had the blind faith that Susan, Matthew and Rose had in Melissa's recovery. More than that, he desperately hoped that today would not be the day that the three young people discovered that faith did not always give a damn.

Before Lt. Simmons could decide whether or not to start a fresh line of questioning, the Doctor rushed in. His eyes were troubled and his expression serious. The teenagers had not seen him look so forbidding since they had played with the TARDIS controls the first day they had met him. It scared them, and brought new tears to Susan's face.

"None of that now, Susan," he told her absently. "The doctors know what's wrong with your mother, and I'm going to try to help her."

Both Jack and Rose looked sharply at him as he said the word 'try'. Their friend was all about absolutes, that he would temper his words now meant that things were far graver than he was saying.

"Just going to borrow the Captain a few minutes; won't take long. Once I finish helping your mother, we'll have a proper sit down and talk, okay?"

Sniffling, Susan nodded as the Doctor pulled Jack out of the room and into the corridor. "Jack, I need you to go to the infirmary, and bring back a green vial from the third drawer from the door, second from the bottom. Got that?" he asked as he finished the rapid instructions.

"Third from the door, second from the bottom. Green vial," Jack repeated quickly. "Got it."

"Good man," the Doctor responded. Then he continued gravely, "And Jack, hurry." The Captain didn't need to be told twice. He took off towards the elevator, running.

Less than five minutes later, Jack exited the elevator and handed the green vial to his friend, who was waiting impatiently in the hallway. Running after the Time Lord down the corridor towards the ICU, Jack waited behind the glass as the Doctor injected the contents into Melissa's IV line. She was lying completely still on the hospital bed, numerous tubes hooked up to various parts of her body. It looked like she was being given oxygen and blood, and the primitive heart monitor showed her pulse to be racing and then skipping several beats.

The other doctors and various attendants were still in the room, but no longer hovered over Melissa as they had when he had first seen them. Now, they all waited uselessly to the side, deferring to the Doctor, just as he did. After some fifteen minutes, he realized that Melissa's pulse rate had steadied. It was still abnormally fast, but her heart no longer skipped beats, and it was continuing to stabilize. Taking this as a good sign, the Captain let out a breath he was unaware he had been holding. The Doctor must have been encouraged as well, because he conferred briefly with the other physicians, and then left the ICU to stand before the Captain.

"I've done all I can do. Now, we have to wait and see," he said wearily, leaning slightly against the glass.

"What happened to her?"

"Aspirin. She was bleeding out in her stomach. No real cure for that in this time period, but. . ." and the Doctor trailed off, shrugging slightly.

"But you cheated," Jack finished.

"Yeah," the Doctor finally agreed.

"So, she did try to kill herself," Jack said uncomfortably, his face pained.

"No, Captain, she didn't." The Doctor responded resoundingly as he put his arm on his friend's shoulder. Looking straight into his eyes so Jack could see the truth in his words, the Time Lord continued. "The lab only found traces of aspirin in the blood they recovered at the scene. She couldn't have taken more than two, not enough for a suicide attempt. Massive adverse reaction—the drug must not be the same where she's from. You were right, Jack, you were right."

Sagging in relief, Jack let himself be comforted briefly by the Doctor's embrace. Pulling himself together, he stood taller and took a small step back. "Another one of her damn fun house mirrors. Whoever sent her here wasn't thinking." Abruptly, he remembered his friend's earlier hesitation. "You said we'd have to wait and see. What aren't you telling me, Doc?"

The Doctor shifted slightly and looked down towards his boots. "The bleeding's stopped, but she had significant blood loss before the paramedics arrived. She's had several transfusions, but I won't know if there was any permanent damage until she wakes up."

"Worst case?" his companion asked warily.

"Any cardiac damage will show fairly quickly, but I won't be able to assess possible neurological damage until she wakes, which won't be for a few hours. It all depends on how much blood she lost before they started the transfusions."

"You're saying there's a possibility of brain damage, aren't you?" Jack asked, knowing he hadn't misunderstood.

Reluctantly, the Doctor responded, "Yeah."

"What are we going to tell her Susan and Matthew?" he finally inquired, as he worried about how this crisis might affect them.

"Don't know yet. Not good with that sort of thing. Don't usually have to stay and deal with after."

"Rose and I will help you." Hating the fact that he was completely useless, he quickly returned to the waiting room. At least he could reassure her kids.

The Doctor stayed near the intensive care unit for a while longer, just in case. Brooding, he pondered what he would do if Melissa had suffered brain damage. In a strange way, he felt responsible for all three of them; he was now sure the TARDIS had taken herself out of the Vortex to land on Bad Wolf Summit at the exact time the Morgan family had needed help. His ship usually let them both pretend that her choices were no more than his bad driving skills, but she had been rather blatant in coming here the first time. Her actions were tempting him to have a look at Melissa's personal timeline, something he did not do on principle. When the temptation became too great, he walked slowly towards the waiting room before he could do something he would regret.

Rose was standing outside of the cramped room. She had just finished explaining to Lt. Simmons about the house fire that had given Melissa all those scars. The officer seemed more sympathetic after watching the teenagers interact with Rose and Jack.

"Please tell Captain Harkness that I'm sorry I accused him of hurting Ms. Morgan. I have to pursue every possible angle, although it's clear now that this is simply an attempted suicide. I hope your sister gets the help she needs." With that, Lt. Simmons left.

Emotionally spent, Rose saw the Doctor walking towards her, the look on his face the one she had come to equate with guilt. Pulling the Doctor in a tight hug, Rose reassured him, "You did your best, yeah? It's going to be all right."

"Hope so," is all he said as he returned her hug.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starved, and Matthew and Susan need to eat something, too. You think the cafeteria is still open?" Rose asked, practically. It was a relief to be able to do something after the tense waiting in the drab room.

"Probably not, it's almost ten." The Doctor answered with a small grin. "Rose Tyler, I think you believe chips can save the world."

"Maybe not the world, but some food will make us all feel better, isn't that right, Jack?" Rose leaned into the room, trying to draw some sort of response from him.

"I'll tell Susan and Matthew," he responded without answering her question. He didn't feel hungry at all; his stomach was still feeling queasy. He had felt that way ever since the Doctor had told him to hurry, and he didn't think he would feel much better until Melissa was awake and talking to him.

Still, he put the most charming smile he could muster, and addressed the teens with a big grin on his face. "Okay kiddos," he began cheerily, "Like I said, your mom's going to be fine. She just needs lots of rest. The doctors here are going to want to do lots of tedious tests once she wakes up, but I bet she'll be back home within a week. You might as well go home and get something to eat."

They did not need to know about the Doctor's concerns, Jack decided. Susan and Matthew needed a good night's sleep, and worrying about their mother would not change anything. He was worrying enough as it was.

"Can we go see her first?" Susan asked hopefully while Matthew nodded in agreement.

"Not tonight, Susan. She's still in ICU and unconscious."

Seeing the children's growing look of alarm, he quickly reassured them, "She's improving every minute, but she still needs round the clock monitoring, and I don't think she'd want you to see her hooked up to a bunch of loud machines and tubes. Once they put her in a regular room, you can spend lots of time with her, okay? Right now, she needs her rest."

"Okay," Matthew agreed, trusting that everything would be much better tomorrow.

"Tell you what, I'll stay here tonight, and will call you if your mom wakes up."

"Good idea," the Doctor commented from the doorway. "I'll take everyone back to the house. Once they're settled, I'll be back. Don't need much sleep anyway."

Behind the kids' backs he shot Jack an annoyed look. Yes, he had wanted help dealing with Melissa's children, but he was not sure that Jack's optimistic reassurances were for the best. What if she had been permanently affected by the massive blood loss?

Excited to travel by TARDIS, even if it was as the result of unhappy circumstances, Susan and Matthew gathered their backpacks and headed towards the entrance to the hospital. Rose and the Doctor followed closely behind, talking quietly between themselves.

Jack settled into one of the padded chairs, which really wasn't as comfortable as it looked. Idly, he flipped through a few magazines to keep his thoughts from dwelling on Melissa's chances. Eventually, he dozed, his neck tilted at an odd angle and his arms crossed against his chest. Much later he was startled awake by a touch against his arm. He jumped to his feet, his body ready to fight whatever threat had woken him. When he saw it was only the Doctor, he relaxed visibly.

"Sorry about that. Old habits," he explained, somewhat embarrassed.

Overlooking Jack's embarrassment, the Doctor actually smiled. "Follow me. There's someone who wants to see you."

Trying hard not to make any assumptions, he became more and more hopeful as the Doctor led him towards the ICU. The Time Lord was confident, walking briskly down the hall, and his smile became wider as he walked. When they reached the glass partition that defined the ICU, Jack saw that Melissa was no longer hooked up to monitors or IV lines. She was covered by a thick blanket, and her eyes, while closed, no longer looked like they had sunken into her skull.

"Well, what you waiting for?" the Doctor asked as Jack paused.

Shooting the Doctor a surprised grin, he quietly entered. Melissa looked like she was sleeping, and he reached down to caress her cheek. As soon as he touched her, however, her eyes opened, and she gave Jack and exhausted smile.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," he told her as he bent down to kiss her forehead.

"Didn't Sleeping Beauty get a kiss on the lips?" she asked him wearily, but with a trace of humor in her shaky voice.

"When you're strong enough to kiss back, I'll make it up to you," he promised, kneeling on one knee so he could be closer to her. "How are you feeling?"

"Like this universe is out to get me," she answered seriously. Pausing a moment, she added, "Tired."

Seeing the transportation team waiting behind him, Jack answered, "You get some rest. They're going to put you in a room that doesn't have so many alarms. I'll be there when you wake up, okay?"

He kissed her again on the forehead, and watched her eyes slowly close. Standing, he walked out of the ICU and back to the Doctor. Seeing his friend's grin and smug expression, he asked, needing the reassurance, "She's going to be fine, right?"

Giving Jack one of those looks that questioned how he could think otherwise, the Doctor answered with a hint of impatience, "Course she is."

A huge smile broke out on the Captain's face. "Fantastic!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As Melissa spent the next few days recovering in the hospital, everything was not quite as fantastic as Jack had first supposed. The attending physicians still treated her hospitalization as a drug overdose brought about by an attempted suicide. They found that it fit the facts well enough, and decided to ignore the initial blood test that only showed trace amounts of aspirin in her system. Even the Doctor with his fake credentials could not convince them otherwise. So, she had to endure several visits by the hospital's psychiatrist.

After consulting the Doctor, Melissa finally told the psychiatrist that her head had hurt so much that afternoon that she truly couldn't remember how much aspirin she had taken. This had led him to classify her as an accidental overdose, but it also led to several MRIs of her brain. Her neurologist was fascinated by her brain structure and happily pointed out the enlarged and abnormal areas of her brain to all of his colleagues. He was sure that he would get a least two journal articles from his patient's abnormalities.

The Doctor quashed his hopes, however, when he declared that Melissa had a benign mutation that he had seen in several patients in the past. It certainly explained her headaches, he reasoned, and since it was not something the neurologist could fix by slicing into her skull, wasn't it time for the patient to be discharged?

Five days after her admission, she was discharged home with a twelve page instruction sheet and a prescription for aspirin-free painkillers. She was still so weak that she couldn't do much more than stand, but the hospital had insisted on wheeling her to the car anyway, so it didn't pose much of a problem. The Doctor drove her home, with Susan, Matthew and Jack scrunched happily together in the back seat. Rose was at the house, although she was there only because there wasn't room in the car for another person.

They dined that evening on chicken spaghetti, garlic bread and a tossed salad, a meal that a kind neighbor had brought by as soon as she had heard Melissa was being released from the hospital. The trip from the living room couch to the dining room table had completely exhausted her, and she was sent to bed without protest shortly after supper. Susan and Matthew were still catching up on schoolwork they had missed, and retired to Matthew's room to work on some particularly difficult calculus equations.

"Now what?" Rose asked as she sipped her tea and watched Jack load the dishwasher.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked as he tried unsuccessfully to fit all the glasses on the top rack.

"I mean, when are we leaving?" Turning to address the Doctor, who had been putting the leftovers in the refrigerator, she added "I've been happy to help, but Melissa's home now, and you haven't even mentioned leaving once, Doctor."

"I haven't?" he asked, surprised. "Suppose there's no reason to stick around now that she's back home. Kids can take care of her. She just needs to take it easy."

"I could stay," Jack offered quietly, surprising both of his friends.

"You? I can't see you playing nursemaid," Rose teased.

Feeling defensive, Jack shot back, "I did just fine taking care of that Neanderthal while you two had fun in the Stone Age. I think I could take care of Melissa and her children."

Knowing Jack was angry at her joke, Rose turned serious, "But you don't mean staying here for good, do you Jack?" She was alarmed when she saw the indecision on her friend's face.

"'Course he doesn't," the Doctor answered for him. "Think he's offering to stay while Melissa recovers, then we would pick him up. Isn't that right, Captain?"

Jack paused a second before replying. "That's exactly what I meant. How could I leave the two most jeopardy friendly people in the universe, Rose? You'd be lost without me." His playful tone was back, reassuring Rose that he only meant to stay while Melissa recovered. The Doctor wasn't so sure, and vowed to have a long, private conversation with the Captain before they left.

The Doctor found several excuses to stay in Colorado for two more days. He improved the efficiency of the electric heater, and quietly watched Jack. He set up a sonic field that would keep the mountain lions and bears off of Melissa's property, and quietly watched Jack. He even chopped wood for the fireplace, all the while watching Jack interact with Melissa, Susan and Matthew.

Finally, he couldn't delay any longer, and asked the Captain to help him with a few repairs before he and Rose left. Sliding underneath the console, he asked Jack for a spanner.

"You're not fooling me, you know," Jack commented as he handed the tool to the Doctor.

"Not sure what you're talking about, Captain." The Doctor continued to tinker under the console.

"I've seen you watching me the past two days." The former conman was bitter; he thought the Time Lord trusted him more. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of her and her children. You didn't need to stay and make sure."

The Doctor came out from underneath the console to stare at his companion. Impatiently, he replied, "Wasn't checking up on you, Jack. I know how much you care for her."

Standing up, he leaned against the console. His companion's attitude wasn't making this any easier. "I was trying to decide if you really wanted us to come back for you." He paused as he took in the expression on the Captain's face. "Not sure, so I thought I'd better to ask."

"I told Rose," Jack began.

"No, I told Rose. You didn't answer. Got perfect recall, me." He continued to watch his friend.

Jack began to pace around the console. "She needs me. She's been abandoned so many times, and I don't want to do that to her again."

"Need's not the best thing to base a relationship on, Captain." Hating domestics, the Doctor continued to watch him pace, so he saw the look his friend shot him. Maybe he wasn't the best one to give relationship advice after all.

Jack stopped pacing. "I think I love her," he admitted.

That admission got a raised eyebrow from the Doctor. Not that he thought his companion incapable of love. He was aware of the Capatin's feelings towards Rose and him, but it wasn't the same situation. Now, however, Jack was admitting that he might love someone with whom he could settle down and make a life. The question became, could he settle down at all?

"Brings us back to that question, doesn't it?"

"I don't know! It should be easy, but this place is so primitive, and their lives are so ordinary. Half the time I think I would go crazy staying here and half the time I think I would be crazy to leave it!" His frustration turned into anger, and his hand smashed down on the seat. "Why can't she just come with us? It would make everything much easier!"

The Doctor didn't reply. He knew as well as Jack why Melissa wasn't coming with them. It was the right choice for her children, and he respected that. The Captain was going to have to work this out on his own.

"Rose asked me to let her visit Jackie. If I can stand it, might even stay for tea. Would two weeks give you time to decide, Captain?"

Grateful for the reprieve, he answered with a smirk, "Just promise you won't miss and pick me up in a year and two weeks, Doc."

"Oi! Rose is never going to let me live that down, is she?" Problem solved, at least temporarily, the Doctor and Rose made their goodbyes and promised to return in two weeks.


	5. Two Weeks

Author's Notes: First, thank you to everyone who has put this on their alert list. I really appreciate it. And, I'd like to thank Wannabe Darklord for the thoughtful review. I've divided this chapter into two from the original. At 10,000 words, I thought it was a little long to read in one go. I'll post the rest tomorrow. Hope it doesn't make it too boring, although there's a revelation in this chapter that will effect the entire plot. Thanks for reading!

* * *

><p>Jack tensed as he watched the TARDIS disappear. The Doctor and Rose were gone, and he needed to believe that they would be back in two weeks because he still wasn't sure about anything. Melissa must have sensed his discomfort, because she hooked her arm in his and led him back in the house. "I'm too tired to go bowling with the kids; do you mind if we stay in this afternoon?"<p>

"Not at all. I'll make you some tea." He kissed her on the forehead, temporarily disappearing into the kitchen.

She followed. "When are you going to stop kissing me on the forehead, Jack? I'm not going to break."

Leading her to the sofa, he lazily stroked her back. "When you stop taking naps while I'm trying to seduce you."

Nuzzling into his chest, her eyes began to droop. "You are a cruel, cruel man, Jack Harkness." Five minutes later, she was asleep, her tea forgotten.

Susan cooked chili that night, not trusting Jack in the kitchen. He would have been insulted, but cooking wasn't a specialty of his, and she let him do the dishes with Matthew. Melissa managed to eat dinner with them and play a game of Uno before she started to flag. It was after nine, though, so maybe she was beginning to recover some of her strength.

Susan woke Matthew promptly at six in the morning, and the boy's protests were loud enough to wake Jack, who had tossed and turned in the guest bedroom most of the night. After making up his bed, he crossed the den, went down the hall to Melissa's room and closed her door, hoping that her kids could manage to get ready for their first day of school without her.

Picking up the newspaper that rested on the doorstep, he went to the kitchen to read. He knew better than to make the coffee. Susan had declared that his only attempt tasted like weak dishwater, and had requested that he stay away from the coffee machine. He didn't understand why the teens insisted on strong coffee, especially when they cut theirs in half with cream, but he had to admit he was developing a taste for the French roast with chicory that they preferred.

At seven, Matthew sauntered into the kitchen wearing his new school uniform, although it could have used a good ironing. Giving Jack a bleary wave in greeting, he began to make the coffee. "Anything good in the paper?"

"Depends on what you mean good. There's an update on the Guinevere I space probe that Britain launched. It's hard to believe it's going to take that long to reach Mars. Just hope they don't bother the Martians." Jack turned his attention to the sports pages, but still didn't understand the American version of football, so he quickly abandoned that section.

"Hey, don't knock the space probe. It's a good first step for us stupid apes." Matthew grinned as he used the Doctor's favorite phrase. "At least they're trying here. Back home, the U.S. retired the space shuttles, and they occasionally talk about returning to the moon, but that's all it's been so far, talk."

Jack put the paper down. "This isn't home for you, yet?"

Matthew hesitated as he poured his Rice Krispies in the bowl. "Don't tell Mom, but Susan and I don't think we're going to fit in at the school she picked for us. Academically, it sounds fine, but the kids we've met so far aren't the nicest. Everyone in the neighborhood acts like we're geeks or something worse. Me, I can see. I am a geek-I'm skinny and wear glasses, but most of the girls in the neighborhood act like Susan's got the plague or something."

"Maybe they just see her as competition," Jack responded.

Gulping down a huge spoonful of cereal, Matthew nodded in agreement. "Maybe," he allowed when his mouth was empty, "but it doesn't change the fact that they treat her like shit. Excuse my language, Captain Jack."

Jack would have responded, but he saw Susan enter the kitchen and didn't want her to know that she was the topic of conversation. At least her uniform looked like it had been ironed. He glanced at her features, wondering what was causing her social problems. She was no beauty at the moment. Her teeth were in braces; her ginger hair had no style, and her body had yet to fill out. However, the potential was there for her to be stunning, especially if she grew a few inches. Right now she was an ugly duckling; perhaps the other girls realized her potential to be a swan.

Noticing Captain Harkness looking at her, Susan blushed. He smiled at her and began to read the lifestyle section of the paper. After fixing her coffee, she sat next to him and began to eat some yogurt. "What are you going to do today, Captain Jack?"

"I don't know, Sue. I guess it depends on how your mother's feeling." The house was starting to feel claustrophobic, and he hoped that Melissa would feel well enough to go out for a while today.

"She's going to get better, isn't she?" Susan woried that there was something the adults hadn't told her.

"She's much better already," he reassured her. "It's just taking her a while to get her strength back."

"She would have died if we hadn't called Rose, wouldn't she, Captain Jack?" Matthew finally asked the question that had been bothering him since he had seen his mother at the hospital.

Jack stopped pretending to read the newspaper. Instead, he stood up and fixed himself a cup of coffee. "Do you really need to know the answer to that, Matt?" He hoped that the kids would not press for what might have been. It upset him enough thinking how close Melissa had come to dying even with the Doctor's help.

"We want to know," Susan insisted.

"You did the right thing when you called us," he allowed, although he refused to say outright that she would have died without their assistance. "But the most important thing to remember is that your mom's fine now. It's not going to happen again."

"What if she reacts to something else?" Matthew asked, another fear finally being voiced.

"Then you'll deal with that when it happens, and you call Rose," he admitted with a wry grin. "Now, don't you two have to catch the bus?"

Quickly finishing breakfast, they picked up their backpacks and headed towards the door. It was raining heavily, and Susan began to put on her waterproof jacket. Matthew, however, started to walk out the door without one. "Where do you think you're going?" Jack asked before the teen could scoot out the door.

"Nobody wears jackets, Captain. Everyone told us there's not enough room in the lockers to hang them up, and you have to drag them with you to class or leave them on top of your locker and hope no one messes with it." Seeing that Jack was not impressed with his answer, he added, "It's not that bad out, anyway."

"Not to cramp your style, but you don't need to catch a cold while your mom's still recovering. Besides, it's not like you have to worry about your friends teasing you, since according to you, you don't have any." Matthew shot him a dirty look, but put on the raincoat and followed his sister out the door.

Jack watched the two of them trudge towards the bus stop. The temperature was dropping and the rain was slanting sideways. So, no morning run for him, then. Dragging a mat to the middle of the den, he began to do sit-ups while listening to the news. After reaching one hundred, he started on the push-ups. Finishing, he went to take a very cold shower; if Melissa didn't recover soon, it would be a very long two weeks.

By the time he was clean, shaved and dressed, Melissa was sitting comfortably in the den drinking a cup of peppermint tea. She looked better than she had yesterday. Her cheeks were rosy and the dark circles under her eyes had disappeared. She was wearing a loose pair of jeans and a green corduroy shirt that tapered nicely at the waist. Jack wondered if he was going to need a trip outside just to cool down.

"If I don't get some caffeine soon, I'm going to go crazy," she complained as Jack sat beside her.

"How about I treat you to Starbucks, then? I need a jacket and thought I'd pick up a few things. You could come with me."

"You're actually going to let me out of the house?" she asked playfully.

"Well, I could chain you up when I leave, but the neighbors might get ideas. Besides, I'm afraid you might like it, and then I'd never get out of the house." He grinned as he saw her neck flush with heat.

"That sounds much more entertaining than shopping," Melissa commented suggestively as she tried not to blush.

"Yes, it does," he agreed, pulling her close and kissing her briefly. "But that would definitely overtire you. One thing at a time."

She protested using every method of feminine persuasion she could think of. After a few minutes of enjoyment, Jack moaned exaggeratedly and pushed her gently away. "I can't believe I'm about to say this," he complained theatrically, "but I think we ought to go shopping."

"I'm not an invalid, Jack." She threw the words at him, her feelings hurt.

"No, but you almost died a week ago." Remembering the hours he spent worrying whether she would live or die, he continued angrily. "Damn it, Melissa, you'd be dead if the Doctor hadn't injected you with a thirty-third century clotting agent. I almost lost you, and if we have to be frustrated for a few days to make sure you're completely okay, then I can live with that!"

The fear behind the anger in his voice scared her. She knew her condition had been critical, but had not realized how close she had come to dying or how much it had upset him. She closed her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. "I'm sorry," she apologized.

He ran his fingers idly through her wavy hair. He knew he had overreacted, but couldn't bring himself to be objective when it came to her. He searched for something light to say to break the tension, but she found the words first.

Looking up at him and smiling, Melissa teased, "Don't think I'm going to let you drive. I heard what a maniac for speed you were when you drove to Garden of the Gods."

"Hey," he happily protested, "I was just trying to maximize performance."

As she grabbed her purse off a chair in the kitchen and opened the door to the garage, she shot back, "Yeah, well once I prove to you that I'm perfectly fine, you can maximize your performance all you want. Just keep your hands off the steering wheel today, Jack Harkness."

The mall was practically deserted, so it did not take very long to find a few flannel shirts and a lightweight jacket for him. Melissa insisted he purchase something to sleep in, and he reluctantly bought two pairs of flannel drawstring pants. They shopped with an easy camaraderie, and she had no problem keeping up with his longer strides.

Afterwards, they stopped at a nearby Barnes and Noble so she could have her promised caffeine. Surprised that she had chosen tea over the myriad of coffee choices, Jack took a sip of her chai latte to taste for himself. Grimacing as he swallowed, he remarked politely, "Well it does have an interesting flavor."

His reaction got a genuine smile from her. "I guess you don't like pumpkin pie either."

"Haven't had it before," he admitted. Watching her drink, he worried that he was letting her do too much at once. While she had kept up readily enough at the mall, her hand was now trembling ever so slightly as she gripped her mug.

Promising to buy a frozen pumpkin pie at the grocery store, she suggested they browse through the bookstore for a few minutes. He nearly refused, but saw determined look on her face and gave in. When he started to follow her down the aisle, she turned to him and suggested somewhat forcefully that he look somewhere else.

"I think I can be on my own for ten minutes, Jack. I'll meet you by the check-out. Go and look at the magazines or something."

Half an hour later, he began to methodically search the aisles for any sign of her. He found her in the science section a few minutes later staring at Images from the Hubble Telescope: Our Universe in Pictures.

"Hey, they got the color all wrong for that nebula," he commented breezily as he came up beside her.

She gave no indication that she had heard him; she just continued to stare at the page in the book. "Melissa?" Jack touched her arm, making her jump. The book fell from her hands to land with a resounding thud at her feet.

"The color's all wrong," she said distractedly.

"That's what I just said," he agreed. "Is there an echo in here?" He bent down to retrieve the book and placed it back on the shelf. "Are you okay? You look a little out of it."

"I'm fine," she snapped. "I was just bringing the two books I found to the register. You didn't have to sneak up on me."

"I didn't sneak," he responded patiently. "I was getting worried about you. You promised to meet me twenty minutes ago."

"What?" she mumbled, checking her watch. Confused, she apologized. "I guess I lost track of time. I could have sworn it's only been a few minutes. Sorry."

Frowning, he picked the two paperbacks off the shelf and wondered how long she had been staring at the Hubble book. Putting a protective arm around her, he led her to the check-out. "Come on. Let's get out of here and get some lunch. I think you need something to eat."

They stopped at a local hamburger joint near the house. He ordered with gusto the largest burger on the menu and added fries to go with it. When lunch arrived, he insisted that she have half of his to accompany the small salad she had ordered. Concerned, he watched her listlessly pick at her food. She was preoccupied, and he had to repeat himself several times just to catch her attention.

Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. "So, I thought we could go back and I could rip the buttons off your shirt and show you some very innovative ways to enjoy an afternoon alone. What do you think about that?"

"Did you say something?" she finally asked distractedly as she pushed her fries around her plate.

He reached over to cup her cheek with his hand. His touch seemed to focus her attention, and she looked at him quizzically. "I said I think you're tired and I'm taking you home. You need some rest."

"I'm fine, Jack," she argued half-heartedly.

"You were fine; now you're tired," he countered. Asking the waitress to box Melissa's lunch, he paid the bill.

Before he could lead her out of the restaurant, she reminded him of their last errand. "We need to stop at the grocery store on the way home. There's a storm on the way, and we're low on a few supplies."

Reluctantly, he agreed. He had heard the weather forecast on the morning news. If the weatherman was correct, then the city would get ninety mile per hour winds overnight. It would be prudent to pick up some staples. "Okay, but I'm driving." When she passively gave him the keys, his concern only increased.

He refused to let her carry the bags of groceries into the house. By the time they had filled the cart with milk, bread, eggs and other necessities, it seemed that she was standing by sheer force of will. The rain was coming down harder, and he was completely drenched by the time he unloaded the car.

She sat mutely at the kitchen table as he quickly put the perishables in the freezer and refrigerator. The rest of the groceries could wait until later. Leading her to her bedroom he wrapped her in a thick fleece blanket.

"I'm not that tired," she said stubbornly underneath the blanket.

He took off his soaking wet shirt to lie down with her. "I am," he exaggerated. "All that toting has worn me out. Think I'll take a nap." He winked broadly at her as he arranged the blanket on top of them.

She smiled sleepily at his antics as she snuggled beside him. Wrapping himself around her, he listened contentedly to her deep, even breathing. He fully intended to get up after a few minutes, but he had become quite chilled loading everything into the car in the rain, and he was enjoying the extra warmth of her body too much to move. Soon, his breathing matched hers, and he was fast asleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A few minutes past five, Susan and Matthew opened the door to their house. "How come it's dark?" Susan wondered as she flipped on the light in the den.

"Dunno," Matthew answered as he dropped his backpack and trumpet case in the middle of the floor. "Maybe they're downstairs." Entering the kitchen, he glanced at the sacks of groceries that were still on the floor. "At least someone did the shopping." He opened a bag of potato chips and started to munch.

"You won't be hungry for dinner," Susan warned.

"What dinner? I don't see anything cooking, do you?" He grabbed another handful of chips and noted with satisfaction that Susan had grabbed some as well.

Susan put her flute and backpack away in her closet. Wondering if her mom had left a note, she went past the den and down the hall to her mother's bedroom. The reading lamp was on and she could see her mother and the Captain curled together on the bed.

"Matthew," she whispered, motioning for him to come out of his room to take a look. "I found them," she said quietly.

"He's not wearing a shirt," Matthew blurted out, embarrassed.

Susan clamped her hand over his mouth and led him farther down the hall. "Don't wake them up. I think it's cute. Besides, Mom's still dressed."

Matthew rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Don't act like that, Matt," she admonished. "It's not like he expects us to still call him Dad or anything, even with those fake birth certificates."

"Captain Harkness is alright, I guess. He does tell some pretty good stories, even if I don't believe half of them." Susan knew that was as much praise as Matthew would give Captain Jack. He was still very loyal to the memory of their father.

"Maybe we should tell him about the key and the watch," Susan suggested hesitantly.

"I thought we weren't going to tell anybody about them," her brother argued. He walked back to the den and pulled an ornate skeleton key and a singed silver pocket watch out of his backpack.

Susan picked up the pocket watch to rub its scorch marks, although they did not fade. "You know what Uncle Brad wanted us to do with these. You read what his note said."

"Screw Uncle Brad and screw the Doctor," Matthew spat out. "I read that other note Mama left on the table. He told her Dad would be here, and he lied. Why should we trust him?"

"He said the Doctor would know what to do with Mom's inheritance," Susan began.

Matthew cut her off. "We showed them to Mom, didn't we?" he asked defensively. "She had no clue what the key was for and hardly looked at the watch. She let me have them and I'm keeping them."

"The Doctor helped save Mom at the hospital. Maybe we should have done what Uncle Brad told us to," Susan worried.

"He's a freaky alien who went ape shit when we touched his ship. I don't trust him with Mom's inheritance, no matter how nice he's been since, and I don't trust Captain Courageous not to tell the Doctor. So, the answers still no." Matthew took the watch from Susan's fingers and shoved it back in his pack.

"What if he stays?" Susan was scared to voice the question. She wanted her mother to be happy, and she liked Captain Jack, but she wasn't sure how her family would change with the addition of another person.

"You think he might stay?" Susan gestured down the hall towards their mother's bedroom in reply. Matthew pondered in silence for several moments. Finally, he responded, "Fine. We'll show him, but only if he stays, and only after the Doctor's left, okay?"

Relieved that her brother had conceded that much, Susan nodded. All the while, Jack slept peacefully, completely unaware that Melissa's fate had inadvertently been decided by her two teenage children.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Waking up alone and in the dark, Jack turned on the lamp, noting that it was a little after seven. Hastily donning his shirt, he ran his fingers through his hair and headed for the kitchen. Hearing the sounds of the television, he made a detour into the den. Susan and Matthew were sitting on the sofa watching some show, a comedy from the sound of the laugh track. Melissa was reclining in her leather easy chair, reading one of her new mysteries that she had purchased at the bookstore.

"Hungry?" she asked when she saw him standing in the hallway.

"Always," he answered cheerfully. The twins stared at him for a second, and then found several excuses to leave. His smile faltered for a moment, and he looked at Melissa in confusion. She mimed the word 'LATER' behind her children's back. Both teens brushed past him as they headed to their rooms. Susan gave him a tense, fake smile, while Matthew glared at him.

Biting back several jokes about his sudden unpopularity, Jack watched Melissa's children disappear in their bedrooms. "What's up?" he asked as he sat on the sofa.

Melissa put down her book before replying. "Just kids being kids. Don't worry about it."

He stared at his hands. "They don't want me here," he stated matter-of-factly. He could tell by her silence that he had guessed correctly, but he was surprised when she came to him and took his hands in her own.

"They need to grow up and learn that life doesn't always revolve around them." She paused and then added bitterly, "But it always has before, so I shouldn't be surprised when they assume it always will."

Standing up, she abruptly changed the subject. "There's some leftover pizza if you don't mind that for dinner. I didn't feel like cooking, so I put two frozen pizzas in the oven.

He was tempted to tell her she shouldn't have been in the kitchen at all, but Melissa was still upset, and he didn't want to pick a fight with her. It sounded like she had had enough of that already. Instead, he walked with her into the kitchen.

"Pizza's fine. You wouldn't believe some of the things we eat on the TARDIS. Although, I've got to say, Rose does like her chips."

Melissa put the pizza back in the oven to warm it. Then, she put the few dirty plates and glasses that were on the counter into the dishwasher. Finally, she looked at Jack. "It's not that they don't like you. It's just Matthew's afraid you're going to try to replace Mark, and Susan's afraid you won't. I told them you're just here for two weeks, but they don't trust that, either."

"So I can't win;" he grinned. "What do you want?"

"What do you mean?" She leaned against the counter to study his expression. It was flirtatious, hopeful and somewhat sheepish.

"I mean," he said, his tone suddenly serious, "Would you like it if I stayed?"

"You're not, so I'm not even going to answer that," she replied dismissively.

He closed the distance between them and placed his hand on her arm. He suddenly knew exactly what he wanted. "I could stay, if you want me to."

"For how long?" she breathed, thinking that she could not have understood him correctly.

"For as long as you'll have me." She started crying then, and he tenderly wiped her tears away. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

His apology only made her cry harder. He held her until her sobs stopped. Her eyes shiny with tears, she looked up at him in wonder. "I killed my parents. I have disgusting scars on my back. I'm a widow with two sulky teenagers. I'm from an entirely different universe. I have odd medical problems, and you, Jack Harkness, want to stay with me?"

"How could I not?" he questioned earnestly. Bending down, he kissed her passionately, not stopping until the timer for the oven began to buzz. "Foiled by the bell," he laughed as they broke apart.

"Cursed timing," she agreed jokingly as she handed him his hot pizza on a plate.

The buzzer alerted the kids that the kitchen was once again open for business. They decided to make hot cocoa to go along with the pumpkin pie they had found defrosting in a grocery bag. Sitting down at the table with their mother and the Captain, Susan and Matthew tried their best to behave politely.

It was awkward at times, but Jack soon put them at ease with tales of space travel and daring adventures. The group decided to play Uno and then gin rummy as they watched the wind whip the trees into a frenzy. Each took a turn winning at Uno, but Jack and Melissa vied for the top spot in gin rummy. Finally, after eleven, Melissa was declared the victor and everyone prepared to go to bed. Respecting the kids' ambivalence to his presence, Jack again slept in the guest bedroom, happily anticipating their departure for school the next morning.

Unfortunately, the wind increased throughout the night, uprooting trees and damaging roofs, including the one at Susan and Matthew's school. Waking up at six, Jack started a fire in the den fireplace to take the unseasonable chill out of the air. Peaking outside, he saw that a pine tree had fallen across the driveway, blocking the car. Turning on the television confirmed the severity of the storm; there would be no school today. Sighing, he resigned himself to taking a cold and very lonely shower before he found the chainsaw.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Three very sexually frustrating days later, Jack gleefully saw Susan and Matthew out the door so they could catch the bus. Not that the down days had been an entire waste of time. He thought he had won Susan's trust somewhat by acting the perfect gentleman. He kept his hands off Melissa, at least when the kids were nearby; he and Melissa weren't made of iron, after all. He cleared the driveway, played board games with the family, chopped wood and relaxed by reading by the fire. Matthew, however, continued to glower at him when Melissa wasn't looking. Jack wondered if the teen would ever really accept him; he was a far different boy than the needy scared kid Jack had comforted at the hospital.

Melissa had fully recovered from her ordeal, and was also impatiently awaiting her children's departure. She was happy that Jack had bonded with Susan, but she wanted him for herself now. They spent much of the subsequent school days in bed together.

At night, they would sit in the den and talk to each other about their past, Jack revealing more about his childhood to her than he had ever confided to anyone else. She talked of a lonely existence on the fringes of her grandfather's world, her brother her only companion until he ran off at the age of fifteen. It was like an extended honeymoon, and even Jack knew that they couldn't spend the rest of their lives this way. But it was a pleasant holiday while they waited for Rose and the Doctor to return.

Except two weeks went by, and then three, and the TARDIS did not appear. Jack tried not to appear edgy; he had decided that he was staying, after all. However, he worried constantly at his friends' delay. Melissa tried her best to allay his fears, assuring him that there was a good reason why they were late.

On August 29, 2005, as Melissa watched history repeat itself in a very different way, she had a extreme moment of cynicism, wondering if the Doctor had missed his rendezvous with Jack merely to avoid a terrible tragedy that was even now unfolding on her television screen. She had been so hopeful when the mayor of New Orleans had ordered the evacuation of the city two days before it had been called for on her world. And she had been ecstatic when he had backed up that order with the power of the government, commandeering buses, trains and even airplanes to take the people out of the city who could not afford to flee on their own.

Taking pets, personal treasures, photo albums and hope, the vast majority of the population in the city and the outlying areas were evacuated. Hours before the storm New Orleans was a virtual ghost town. Even the newscasters were staying away, choosing instead to rely on remote cameras placed throughout the city. But she had forgotten about the stubborn, who had chosen to ride out the storm, never quite believing that God would actually let a hurricane of that magnitude make landfall in the one place where it could do the most damage.

Fearful long after it was possible to leave, many took shelter in the massive Superdome, whose roof proved not to be as sturdy as it had been in her universe. The tornado that landed overhead was the final blow, collapsing the supports onto the thousands of people who had taken shelter there. She sat there, stunned, once again watching a place she loved being destroyed, until Jack firmly shut off the news coverage, saying she wasn't helping anyone by staying glued to the TV, especially herself.

In the end, she helped her children organize several fundraisers for the Red Cross at the high school. The forty thousand dollars they raised through car washes, bake sales, a massive yard sale and creative begging was split between the emergency funds destined for Louisiana and Mississippi. While the money was a miniscule fraction of what was needed, she felt somewhat better knowing she and her children hadn't sat idly by; at least they had helped in some small way.

Jack, who had done much to help, was impressed by her organizational skills and her leadership. At times he thought she could have given Winston Churchill a run for his money. When she got an idea in her head, she was unstoppable, and a force to be reckoned with. Within a week, she had been reluctantly drafted onto the board of the school's Parent Teacher Association, serving as the head of their fundraising committee.

Now busy with school projects and trying to launch a web design business, Melissa no longer had the time to spend most of the day with Jack, but he seemed content to spend his days doing household chores while waiting for the Doctor and Rose to return. Even though he had told Melissa he was staying, he felt like he was in a peculiar sort of limbo until the Time Lord's arrival. If he analyzed his thoughts, he would have admitted that in many ways he was waiting for the Doctor's approval, but he was careful not to examine his feelings that closely.

Continuing to sleep in the guest bedroom, he would often slip into Melissa's room in the middle of the night and slip back into his bed before the teens woke up. She still had frequent nightmares, although they were no longer a daily occurrence, and she admitted that his presence allowed her to sleep more peacefully. Many nights they were doing just that, simply sleeping, although the nights they didn't more than made up for it.

For the next few weeks, the new routine worked well, until he attended Susan and Matthew's band concert. The music was more than tolerable, and he found himself full of pride at the accomplishments of Melissa's kids. Both had lengthy solos, and performed beautifully.

The reception afterwards, however, left him in a foul mood. Not having spoken to Jack prior to the event, Melissa self-consciously introduced him as a good friend, not knowing what to call their relationship in public. He wasn't upset, he told himself, until some of the more well-meaning women managed to make him feel inadequate with their questions about his profession, thinly veiled comments about Melissa's domestic arrangements, and one blatant suggestion that perhaps he should not be left alone with her children.

The men were worse in their own way. Jack gave up introducing himself as Captain Jack Harkness when he tired of explaining that he didn't belong to the armed forces or to the police or fire departments. He didn't bother to explain that his title came from a stint in the Royal Air Force, since he didn't think anyone would believe that he was a World War II veteran. Towards the end of the evening, he started answering "Not damned much," when the men asked him what he did for a living.

The ride home that night was very subdued. The kids were pleased with their performances, but both had tests the next day, and were anxious to get home to study. Melissa didn't know whether to feel sorry for Jack or angry that he had been so belligerent to her acquaintances. Plus, she knew she had inadvertently hurt his feelings, but they hadn't even spoken to the kids about his intentions; how else then did he expect her to introduce him?

On top of it all, she stewed over the comments of Tiffany Gibson, who had wondered at the wisdom of letting Melissa's boy toy sleep in the same house as her children. Jack had overheard that one, of course. If Tiffany wasn't current PTA secretary, she would have slapped her then and there, but Melissa couldn't afford that scene to become gossip fodder, so she painfully bit her tongue and ignored the catty woman's innuendo.

The next morning, Melissa found Jack sipping his coffee in the kitchen and intently reading the want ads. "I could apply for this welding job," he suggested as she sat down to eat some cereal.

"Welding would be a waste of your talents," she replied seriously as he studied her reaction.

"Well, prostitution's illegal here, and I thought you wouldn't appreciate me living on the wrong side of the law while I'm with you." His comment was flippant, although there was an edge to his voice.

"This is about last night, isn't it?"

"Maybe, but if I'm going to stay, I should get a job, don't you think?" He took another sip of coffee as he pondered why he had sounded so challenging.

"If you want one." She really didn't want to have this conversation with him until the Doctor showed up. She mentally cursed the Time Lord's driving skills. "But you can do a lot better than a welder. You're a natural born leader, Jack. Don't waste your life as a mechanic."

"I'm a fairly good mechanic, Melissa. "There are lots of things you don't know about me." Jack's voice was quiet, but filled with suppressed anger.

"Oh, I know you're very skilled with your hands, Jack Harkness." When he didn't respond to her teasing, she continued more seriously, "I'm sure you'd make a fantastic mechanic. But I also think that you could find something to challenge your sharp intellect as well, especially if you wait until we can talk to the Doctor. Maybe he can get you a job with UNIT."

Seeing that he still wasn't satisfied, Melissa tried to make light of it. "If you're worried about what some witchy woman said, then you can put your mind at ease. You're definitely not my boy toy. First of all, you are most certainly a man, and secondly, I would never treat a toy this way." After a few minutes of showing him just how much he meant to her, she leaned into his ear and whispered, "I love you, you know, even when you act like a stupid ape."

His response was much more physical, but he meant the same, even if he couldn't bring himself to say the words.


	6. School Invasion

Author's Notes - Thanks to My Beautiful Ending for the enthusiastic review.

* * *

><p>Several hours after Melissa had persuaded Jack to postpone the job hunt, the couple was trying to decide how to spend the rest of the day when Melissa's cell phone rang. Running to retrieve it out of her purse, she answered the phone.<p>

"Mom," Susan whispered, the terror in her voice evident. Something was horribly wrong.

"Susan? What's the matter? Why aren't you in school?" Jack heard Melissa's panic and immediately walked over to her to try to hear the other end of the conversation.

"I am in school. I'm hiding in the physics lab. I'm scared, Mama." Her voice rose in pitch as she admitted her fear.

"Calm down and tell me what's going on."

"They're these things in the building. A bunch of them appeared in the main lobby when we were changing classes. I saw one of them zap Mr. Jenkins with some sort of lightning bolt. I, I think he's dead, Mom. They're not human. I'm scared. I want to go home."

"What do you mean, not human?" she demanded. At that, Jack grabbed the phone from her.

"Susan, it's Jack. You're going to be fine. I'm coming to get you. I just need you to tell me exactly what you saw."

Taking a huge breath, Susan calmed herself enough to explain. "We were changing classes, so everyone was in the halls. All of a sudden, there was a burst of light and then a bunch of creatures were standing there. Everyone started to run, but I panicked; I couldn't move. They started walking towards me and Mr. Jenkins stepped in front of me and told them to leave. One of them shot something out of his hand, and there was a huge bang and I think he's dead and I'm really scared and I really want to be out of here." The panic returned to her voice as she spoke faster and faster.

"Calm down, honey; we're on our way." As he grabbed the keys out of Melissa's hand and started the sedan, he asked, "Can you tell me what they look like, Sue? That would be a big help."

"They're tall and big, like the size of a football player. They look like they're wearing a blue body suit, or maybe their skin's just blue. Their feet look like they have hooves or something, and they clack when they walk. They crackle with some sort of energy. They sound like one of those big power lines."

Speeding out the neighborhood, he frowned. Melissa worried when she saw the look on his face, but didn't try to interrupt him. "That's good, Sue. That helps a lot. Are there any windows where you are?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I want you to look out the window. Can you tell me what you see?"

"There's a black car parked outside and a bunch of police cars pulling up at the front of the building."

"Any sign of the blue creatures?" he asked.

"No."

"Do you think you could run really fast to the police cars, Susan?" He hoped to get her to safety so he could focus on eliminating the threat and finding Matthew.

"No, I'm on the third floor," she cried.

"It's okay, you'll be fine. Just stay hidden. We're almost there." Asking on a hunch, Jack queried, "Are there any electrical devices in the room you're in, Sue?"

"Yeah, a lot. I'm in the physics lab."

"Good, that's good. I want you to turn everything on in the room that uses electricity, okay?"

"Okay," Susan answered shakily.

"I've got to let you go now, but I promise I'm going to help you. Just stay where you are and we'll find you. Can you promise me that?"

"Yeah," Susan whimpered as she hung up the phone.

"How bad is it?" Melissa asked as Jack held down the horn and ran a red light.

"Bad," Jack replied tersely as they neared the turnoff to the school. "It sounds like there's a gang of Parflicans inside the school. They survive by scavenging artron energy from other life forms, although I can't imagine why they would end up on Earth. It would take them several months to travel here. They usually follow large temporal disruptions."

"You mean like a time storm?" Melissa asked, her mouth suddenly dry.

Not taking his eyes off the road, Jack simply nodded. He floored the accelerator, and almost plowed into the police cruiser that was blocking access to the road leading to the school.

"I'm sorry, sir," the policeman stated as he approached the car. "We have a situation at the school; you'll have to turn around. Parents can go to District Twenty headquarters on Falcon Street. We're going to set up a command center there, and you'll be notified when we have more information."

Jack jumped confidently out of the SUV. Approaching the officer, he introduced himself using his psychic paper. "Captain Jack Harkness, Officer. I'm a member of UNIT Special Forces and I've been ordered to assist in this situation. Now, where's your on-scene commander?"

After peering intently at the psychic paper, the officer nodded curtly. "This way, sir."

Melissa got out of the passenger seat with every intention of following Jack, but was stopped by another officer before she could even close her door. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but you're not authorized to be here. Please go to District Twenty headquarters and let us do our job." She thought about protesting, but decided it would only hinder Jack's efforts.

Jumping into the driver's side of the Volvo, she turned the vehicle around and sped back the way she came. A quarter of a mile later, she turned off the main road and headed down a narrow dirt path. Parking behind some large boulders, she got out of the car and began walking. It was a quarter mile to the back side of the school, and if she hurried, she might just beat the police cordon.

Jack walked quietly through the front entrance to the school, his sonic blaster in his hand. He had managed to use his fake UNIT credentials to pull rank, and they reluctantly ceded jurisdiction, allowing him to go in the building. Since metal bullets would possibly explode when they came in contact with the Parflicans electrically charged bodies, Jack expected a bloodbath if the police actually encountered any of the aliens, and hoped he could take care of this on his own.

Tapping furiously on his wrist comp, Jack swore softly. The Parflicans electrical field was too strong inside the building. He couldn't determine their location or their numbers. Shrugging to keep his muscles loose, he began his sweep of the school.

Panting with exertion, Melissa quietly entered the gym, letting the door close behind her. There had to be at least three hundred students huddled on the gymnasium floor. The absolute silence of the packed room unnerved her. Three hundred usually noisy teenagers and not one spoke a word. Noticing one of the P.E. teachers, Mr. Phillips, she calmly addressed him. "The police are encircling the school as we speak. I just came from the western trail. It's open, no sign of intruders. Get them out while you can."

Something in her tone of voice, or perhaps a look in her eye dissuaded the teacher from questioning her orders. Immediately, he began to organize the students, and they filed silently and quickly out into the tall grass behind the gym.

She didn't watch the evacuation. Walking into one of the equipment rooms, she picked up the heaviest, old wooden baseball bat she could find. Swinging it slightly in her right hand, she peeked out the gym entrance and into the dimly lit corridor. Without pausing to think, she ran down the hall. When she found the stairwell, she cautiously ascended to the third floor. Every creak made her pause, but the adrenaline pumping through her body heightened her senses and endowed her with a strange confidence.

Jack, meanwhile, was clearing the main eastern hall downstairs. It was also unnaturally silent, although the bodies on the floor told the tale of the chaos that must have erupted when the Parflicans arrived.

So far, all the classroom doors he'd checked were locked from the inside. That was a good sign, since the scavengers would not have bothered with locking doors during their search. Jack hoped that whoever was hiding in the rooms had the good sense to stay quiet and stay put. As long as Susan or Matthew were not hiding with them, they should be perfectly safe. Parflicans generally ignored those without artron energy unless they had the bad luck to be in their way.

Since Jack had been a Time Agent for half his life, he produced an energy signature that had to be at least as appealing as the twins, if not more so. He hoped the Parflicans would find his scent attractive enough to come out in the open for the promise of a bigger feast. Using himself as bait was not a particularly brilliant plan, but it was an expedient one. If it bought Susan and Matthew some extra time to escape, then so much the better. Besides, he had hunted Parflicans in the past and come away victorious. He pushed out of his mind the nagging fact that he had been working in conjunction with three other Time Agents at the time.

Clearing the stalls of the first female lavatory, Jack heard a sound that made his heart race. Just outside the door was the jumbled clicking of several cloven feet. Backing up, he quickly changed a setting on his blaster and hoped he could take them out before they had time to unleash an electrical attack.

In seconds, the door opened with a crash, and he stepped into the aliens' line of sight. Firing his weapon, he caught all three in his blast and watched in satisfaction as they disappeared before his eyes. All that was left of them were three pairs of blue cloven feet. Stepping over the remains, he exited the lavatory and continued his search.

Melissa strode purposefully down the western hallway of the third floor. She wanted to get to the physics lab as soon as possible, and saw nothing to impede her progress. As she came upon the lab, however, she noticed a large blue skinned creature with its back to her. Its left hand was raised and glowed with a cracking ball of light. Running with a speed she didn't know she possessed, Melissa reached the alien as it abruptly turned towards her. Instincitvely, she bashed its head with the baseball bat. The effects were immediate. The Parflican fell to the floor, motionless, and the crackling energy around it dissipated in an instant. Warily prodding its head with the bat, Melissa calmly noted that thick blue liquid oozed from its mouth, nose and ears. It was most definitely dead.

Tapping quietly on the glass door, she called out for Susan. Gathering her courage, the girl hesitantly unlocked the door. "Mom!" she cried as she grabbed her mother into a crushing hug. "What are you doing here? Where's Captain Jack?"

"I had to know you were alright," Melissa replied as she returned her daughter's hug. "Now listen to me. Lock the door when I'm gone, and stay here until someone comes and gets you. It's still not safe."

"Aren't you staying with me?" Susan's voice was shrill as she thought of hiding alone yet again.

"I can't. I have to find your brother." Giving her daughter another quick hug, Melissa reassured her, "Stay in here. You should be fine." Melissa closed the door to the physics lab before her daughter could protest. Then, she crossed over to the third floor eastern hallway.

In that time, Jack had killed two more Parflicans outside the music room on the first floor of the eastern corridor. Breathing a little easier, he worked his way up the staircase to the second floor. Parflicans always traveled in gangs of six, but there had been scattered reports of two gangs temporarily joining to hunt a large enough target. He was only mildly surprised when he came upon two more Parflicans in the first unlocked classroom on the right. These put up more of a struggle, firing off several charges which missed Jack by mere inches. Rapidly firing the blaster, he neutralized the threat, this time leaving the heads as gruesome souvenirs. But, the battery indicator light started flashing on his sonic blaster, and Jack cursed bad timing. Hoping it still had power for a few more discharges, he moved towards the western hallway.

Melissa's progress through the eastern hall of the third floor was much slower than it had been in the western hallway. Perhaps her sense of self-preservation had finally set in, but she was more cautious, pausing several times to listen intently to the sounds of the deserted space. She detected a faint clacking sound far ahead of her, but when she heard the door to the stairwell slam shut, she abandoned caution, racing to catch up to the creature.

Easing the stairwell door closed, she again listened to the sound the alien made as it walked slowly down the concrete stairs. Treading silently behind, Melissa heard the door to the second floor click shut. Cautiously, she stepped into the hallway of the second floor. Kneeling about thirty feet in front of her, a Parflican raised its hand in preparation to blast open a locker door.

There was a metallic crash as the locker door was blown off its hinges. Reaching into the locker, the alien pulled out a black backpack. She recognized it as Matthew's and something insider her snapped. Sprinting forward, she swept the baseball bat in front of her. The creature was flipped onto its back, causing it to drop the backpack. Without pausing, she began to beat the bat against the creature's face. She continued, unthinking, until a loud metal boom coming from the western hallway brought her to her senses.

Jack was halfway down the western hallway when he heard the distant clang of metal behind him. The sound attracted the attention of two Parflicans who had been standing in front of a classroom at the far end of the hall. He tensed in anticipation as they slowly turned and began to walk towards him.

Suddenly, the same classroom door opened, and a student ran out in a blind panic. Shit, Jack thought as he realized that the student was Matthew. Now the aliens had the choice of two meals.

Running forward, Jack shot the alien closest to him and saw half its body disappear. The other one hissed in anger, but continued to stalk the teen. As it raised its hand, Jack reached out and pulled Matthew roughly by the elbow to propel him out of the creature's line of fire.

"Run!" Jack ordered as he brought his blaster up to fire.

Matthew didn't need to be told twice. Running towards the other hallway, he passed the first set of fire doors when he heard an large crackle, followed immediately by the sound of something heavy hitting a row of lockers. Not turning around to look, he burst through the other set of fire doors, straight into the arms of his mother.

"Run, Mom!" he shouted as he realized who was holding him. "There's a monster back there, and. . ." He trailed off as he caught sight of the dead Parflican. Its head had been hit so many times that it no longer had a recognizable face. That's when he also realized that his mother was holding a long baseball bat, stained blue. Her clothes, face and hair were covered in blue spatter. "What the hell?"

"I protect my own," his mother answered savagely, her eyes radiating fury. "Hide with Susan in the physics lab upstairs. I'll come and get you when it's safe."

Hearing another bang from the western hall, Matthew exclaimed, "Captain Jack musta' killed the other one!" But a tortured scream of pain not a second later betrayed the error of his assumption.

"Run, Matthew!" Melissa urged as she banged open the solid door and raced frantically down the hall. She was just in time to see Jack stagger to his feet, and futilely try to dodge the creature's advance. The Parflican pressed his hand harshly against the Captain's chest. Immediately, his feet slid out from under him and he slumped, unmoving, against a set of metal lockers.

As the alien's arm began to glow with a greenish hue, Melissa screamed.

"NO!"

Her cry was both a roar of warning and a screech of fear. Something in her tone finally alerted the Parflican to the danger she posed. Ripping its hand off Jack, it shot a supercharged blast of energy towards her running form. Somehow, she managed to dodge the attack without breaking stride. Reaching the creature, she gave a mighty swing of the bat and knocked it to the ground. Wielding the bat like an axe, she beat the Parflican in the head until its skull cleaved in two. Abruptly turning from the gory scene she had just created, Melissa dropped the blue-stained bat and ran to Jack.

His body was so still she feared he was dead. Dropping to her knees, she was overjoyed to see the rise and fall of his chest, no matter how ragged or shallow it appeared to be. Easing him into a more comfortable position, she was disheartened to feel the sticky, slick residue of blood on her hands. There was so much of it, all coming from the left side of his head. Hastily wiping the blood on her sweater, Melissa took a leather glove from her coat pocket and pressed it against the gash.

Jack became painfully aware of his surroundings as she tended to his wound. Groaning in pain, he opened his eyes wide enough to see the worried expression on her face. "Run," he whispered wearily, unable to remember how many Parflicans he had killed or how many more might remain. The noise of his own voice washed over him in a wave of pain, leaving him dizzy and nauseous.

Ignoring his command, Melissa watched his face as he grimaced with each breath. "Jack, listen to me," she urged as he shut his eyes. "What hurts? Come on, Jack, don't do this to me. Tell me what hurts." His eyes remained closed and he did not answer. "Jack!" she demanded sharply, afraid that he had again lost consciousness.

"Head. Right side. Hard to breathe," he finally answered feebly.

Studying the right side of his shirt, she touched the ragged hole in the fabric, causing him to hiss in pain. Slowly, she unbuttoned the navy flannel shirt and gently pulled the fabric away from his body. Exposing a jagged burn almost four inches long across his ribcage, she gave an involuntary gasp as she tried to decide what to do.

"Not supposed to scare the patient," he managed to say, his eyes still closed and his face clenched in pain.

"You need to get to a hospital," she admitted tearfully, knowing that his injuries were beyond her first aid skills.

"No," he interrupted with more force than she thought him capable of. "Can't. Too many questions." He was agitated enough to rise and take a few steps towards the lobby before falling heavily to the ground, his stomach heaving.

"You can't even walk," she protested as she pulled him into a sitting position a few feet away. His head was bleeding again, and he no longer responded to her voice. Sacrificing the other glove, she put pressure on his head wound to slow the bleeding, but this time he did not stir.

As Jack leaned unconscious against her, Melissa sniffed back tears. With no aliens to fight, her adrenaline levels plummeted, and she was soon shaking and covered in a cold sweat. She sat there, utterly spent, until she heard a sound that made her stomach clench. The door to the lobby had slammed open.

Quickly picking up Jack's sonic blaster, Melissa pointed it unsteadily at the two approaching figures. "Stop there or I'll shoot," she ordered her voice hoarse and shaky.

"Mom?" Matthew called out timidly as he shielded Susan from the weapon.

"Matthew! Susan!" Melissa called out in relief as she dropped the blaster. The teens rushed to her protective embrace.

"Matthew?" Jack groaned, startling all three of them.

"Are you going to be okay, sir?" Matthew asked fearfully as he looked at the blood on his mother and on the Captain.

"Matthew?" Jack called anxiously again. In the fog of his mind, he remembered the alien reaching for Matthew, but did not remember saving the boy. "Matthew!"

Matthew looked at Jack and then at his mother, unsure of how to react. The Captain's eyes were closed and his face had a grey sheen in the dimly lit hallway. He did not want Jack to die as his father had. He did not want to be left alone yet again. Only this time, it really would be his fault.

"Listen to me, Jack," Melissa begged as she grabbed his shoulders. "Matthew's safe. You saved him, remember?"

"No, I left him. Left Gray, left him to die," Jack protested, suddenly trapped in past nightmares.

"Not Gray," Melissa refuted sharply, her voice cracking. "Matthew. You saved Matthew." Taking his hands in hers, she tried her best to assure him. "I promise you, Jack. Matthew's safe. You saved him. He's here. He's safe. We're all safe."

The desperation evident in Melissa's voice cut through Jack's confusion and he slowly opened his eyes. "Safe?" he asked, needing to be absolutely sure.

"We're all safe. You saved us, Jack." Melissa reassured him patiently, a teary smile breaking out on her face.

"Safe," he agreed, looking at the three of them. A pained, exhausted smiled echoed Melissa's own.

The Captain struggled mightily to keep the pain out of his voice and a smile on his face as he looked at Matthew. He could see the overwhelming guilt etched on the boy's features, and knew that he needed to make the effort to reassure him.

"You did a good job getting away, Matt, and found your sister, I see." He grinned weakly at Susan, who smiled tearfully back. "Not your fault my blaster died when it did. You did the right thing, son, I promise you." The throbbing in his skull was suddenly much worse, and breathing was again becoming difficult. It was impossible to hide his discomfort any longer. He looked apologetically at Melissa before he gingerly leaned back and closed his eyes.

Kneeling in front of him, Matthew hastily wiped the tears away from his own eyes. Jack wasn't breathing right anymore, and his face was squeezed in pain. Seeing him like that terrified the teen. "Sir? Please be okay. I don't want you to—"

Susan pulled him away before he could finish and began crying on his shoulder. She couldn't bear to hear Matthew say die, so she stopped him. Surely, if no one said it, then Captain Jack would be alright. They just needed a miracle.


	7. Twisting Timelines

Author's Notes - Fair warning on the language. Owen's in this chapter.

* * *

><p>Captain Jack Harkness stared at the monthly report from Torchwood I without reading it. He had read it twice already, and reading it again would not change the contents. It contained Yvonne Hartman's usual blustering; all of Canary Wharf's research projects were highly successful, blah, blah, blah. Really, the woman should include some of the Institute's failures; it would make her successes seem all the more impressive. Jack was somewhat concerned about the weapon they were developing. It shouldn't exist on Earth at this time, but there was little he could do but stay alert and hope for a chance to sabotage it. However, it was the report's UNIT briefing that concerned him most.<p>

Buried at the back of eleven pages was a small piece of intelligence from the U.S. division of UNIT. One week ago, a UNIT monitoring station at NORAD had picked up the radar signature of an alien ship in the vicinity of Pike's Peak. Upon further investigation, they discovered an abandoned landing craft on the Western side of the mountain. After a thorough investigation of the ship, it was determined that eighteen aliens of unknown origin were loose in the Western United States.

The report included several pictures of the alien ship in the hope that Torchwood's archives might be able to identify the aliens' species and provide a threat assessment. He knew that particular ship was not recorded in the archive. However, he recognized it immediately. It was a Parflican landing pod. While Jack's memory was hazy at best in regards to his encounter with the Parflicans in Colorado Springs, he knew with utter certainty that he and Melissa had killed twelve of the scavengers, not eighteen.

Melissa—he had thought of her often in the past few months, wondering what her reaction would be if he showed up on her doorstep. Although, he realized with a jolt, he was still on her doorstep at the moment. He had finally caught up to his past.

Swiftly abandoning that thought, he continued to wonder about Melissa. Would she know that the Doctor had left him? Would she want him back in her life now that he had lived for years in linear time without pursuit by the Time Agency? Would she recoil from him when she realized that he could die, but not stay dead?

Now, however, he had another worry. Were she and the children even still alive? And would they stay that way if he didn't interfere? If he had missed an entire gang of Parflicans, then their lives were still in jeopardy. Glancing at his calendar, he realized that the attack on the school had taken place sometime this month, but try as he might, he couldn't remember the exact date. A quick word with Tosh and a search of the internet convinced him that it had not yet happened, so there might still be time to track down the extra gang and neutralize it before they showed up at the high school. The tricky part would be to avoid meeting himself.

Grinning, he walked out of his office and call for his medic. "Owen, you and I are going to take a little trip to Las Vegas to bid on some alien tech up for auction. You can thank me for the vacation later." Pulling out a highly sophisticated life form scanner from his personal safe, he began to pack for the flight.

The flight to Denver was comfortable, especially since he had booked first class tickets. He was using his own money on this trip, since he had no intention of explaining the real reason for the jaunt to Yvonne Hartman. She would not be impressed by alien junk that could be bought on eBay. Owen hadn't complained until they arrived at the Avis rental desk.

"Are you going to tell me why we're driving to Las Vegas from Colorado?"

"I'm mixing a little bit of pleasure with business, Owen. A friend of mine lives in Colorado Springs." Jack replied with a smirk, knowing that Owen would immediately make assumptions about his motivations.

"I didn't know you had any friends, Captain," Owen retorted, surprised that his secretive boss was being so open with him. "Hope she's got a body worth the detour."

Jack almost laughed, but knew his medic well enough to avoid picking a fight with him so early in the day, especially with the jet lag. Twenty-first century humans and their narrow-minded assumptions about sex no longer bothered him as much as they did a century ago. If Owen stayed with Torchwood III long enough, he would learn the error of such assumptions, but since it was Melissa he was talking about, he merely agreed.

"She has an incredible body, and it's been a damn long time since I've seen her." He didn't mention that he had no intention of seeing her this time; whatever happened to Owen in the next day or two would be erased by the retcon he had brought with him from Cardiff.

"Is that why you suddenly look like a logger in jeans and a flannel shirt? They look bloody ridiculous." Owen slid into the passenger seat and began to search for local radio stations.

Jack ignored Owen's comment; he had worn the clothes in a fit of nostalgia, and it was too late to change now. Starting the car, he followed the scanner's signal towards Colorado Springs. He spent much of the drive remembering happier times when a certain red-head was all he needed to be happy.

Approaching the Springs, Jack frowned as the scanner led him towards the foothills. The Parflicans were bunched tightly together; it was apparent that all eighteen were in the same general vicinity. Plus, the tracker was now leading him straight to the high school. While it had been a very long time since Jack had last been here, he definitely recognized Melissa's neighborhood and the surrounding streets. He had a very bad feeling about this.

Parking the black sedan at the front of the school just as a bell began to ring, he could see students roaming the hallways. Suddenly, there were screams, and several hundred people were running outside. Shit, he was definitely going to come much closer to his past than was prudent.

"What the fuck is going on?" Owen demanded as he watched the chaos.

"Alien incursion," Jack snapped as he opened the trunk and began to dig through his suitcase. Throwing a small EMP cannon to Owen, he put one in his own holster. "Get your med kit; there may be survivors you can help." Nodding, Owen went through his own bags and got out a standard Torchwood emergency kit.

"Okay, stay with me and watch my back," Jack ordered as he led Owen to a side entrance of the school.

The medic stopped him before he could open the door. "Bloody hell, Jack! You're going to tell me what we're up against before I go charging in there. You know more than you're telling me!"

Angry at the delay, he held up the scanner. "I've been tracking these aliens since we landed. I thought we'd be able to neutralize them before it came to this, but it looks like I'm a few hours too late. I saw their ship in a report from UNIT and knew what they were."

"So you thought you'd be the fucking hero and kill them yourself? Couldn't you have left it for UNIT?"

"They're way too dangerous for UNIT! Shooting bullets at them would only lead to more casualties. So, yes, Owen, I plan on killing them myself. All you have to do is watch my back!" Jack opened the side door, effectively ending the argument, although the medic had time for one last comment.

"One day your arrogance is going to get you killed, Captain! I hope you know what the hell you're doing today!" Owen adjusted the satchel that held the medical kit so that it wouldn't get in his way if he had to fire; then, he followed his boss into the dark building.

His eyes adjusting to the dim light, Jack realized that they were in the theater. According to the scanner, there were three scavengers within. Holding up three fingers to Owen, who had come up behind him, he began to methodically check every aisle for signs of the blue creatures. Halfway down the aisles, Jack detected a faint glow coming from behind the right stage curtain.

Swiftly leaving Owen behind, he boosted himself up onto the stage and aimed his weapon. Belatedly, the Parflicans caught a whiff of him, but had no time to raise their hands before he fired two rapid bursts and hit both in the midsection. The force of the electromagnetic pulse killed them instantly.

"Behind you, Captain!" he heard Owen shout and spun around in time to see another alien in full retreat. Cursing under his breath, he leapt off the stage to give chase. Following the alien to the cafeteria, he again checked his scanner. According to the display, there were four Parflicans inside. Great, he thought acerbically, this day just keeps getting better. The cafeteria, he remembered, was a large open space with little except tables and chairs for cover. Allowing Owen to catch up, he explained the situation and layout.

"Christ, Jack! Are you trying to get yourself killed? I'm supposed to be your back-up. Were you planning to take four of these fuckers on by yourself?" Owen didn't like their odds. He hadn't seen the creatures fire any weapons, but the electricity radiating from their bodies was bad enough. Touch them, and the shock would probably be enough to kill you.

"I waited for you, didn't I? Although, if I knew you were going to be this slow, I would have taken Suzie." His fear was causing him to lash out at whatever was convenient, and Owen was taking the brunt of it.

"Fuck you, Captain. You want to kill yourself, go ahead, but I need to know exactly what we're up against! What aren't you telling me?"

"Shut up, Owen! I'm not going to let them die because you're asking too many questions. Now, I'm going in on three. You can follow or not; at this point I don't care! Got it?" His patience at the breaking point, Jack counted to three and burst into the room.

For once, Owen kept his mouth shut. He was still royally pissed off that his boss had led him into this deadly situation without explaining why, but he knew every second they wasted arguing could get another civilian killed. Following closely, he entered the cafeteria.

Jack killed the alien that had been nearest to the door as soon as he entered the room, but that still left three moving targets to find and destroy. Moving to the middle of the dining area, Owen spotted another one crouching near the emergency exit, and fired. His shot was dead center, but the Parflican managed to send a ball of energy hurtling towards Jack before the EMP hit. The Captain turned trying to dodge out of the way, but the attack hit him on the right side, flinging him back five feet.

"Shit," Owen muttered as he ran to the spot where his boss lay unmoving.

Groaning, Jack opened his eyes to see Owen bending over him. "Leave off, Owen. I'm fine," he reassured his medic as he sat up.

"You're not fine, Jack! You've got a blasted hole in your shirt. Now let me take a look."

Spying another Parflican out of the corner of his eye, Jack abruptly pulled the medic down and fired off a pulse. Simultaneously, a ball of electricity hit the nearby table, scorching it. However, his shot had been accurate enough, and the creature fell dead to the floor.

"You can patch me up later. There's still one more hiding in here somewhere." He gingerly touched his right side. The burn hurt like hell, but it wouldn't kill him (not that it mattered), so he chose to ignore it for the time being.

Forced by circumstances to agree, Owen picked himself up and continued searching the room. He watched in concern as his boss winced every so often, unsuccessful in his bid to hide his pain. The cafeteria proved to be empty of the remaining alien, but the door to the kitchen was partially open.

Knowing the target was most likely hiding inside, they entered the kitchen warily, their weapons raised. There were six bodies on the ground in the cluttered area. Most had gaping, charred holes on their head or neck. The smell of burnt flesh was overwhelming, and Owen struggled to keep the contents of his stomach under control. Incredibly, a singed middle-aged woman in an apron and hairnet was feebly attempting to crawl to the door. There was also a young man, most likely a student, who was hysterically pointing at the door of a huge metal pantry.

Creeping towards the pantry, they were momentarily stunned when the alien blasted open the door and jumped onto the countertop in a frantic bid to escape. Instinctively, Jack grabbed the kid and hauled him out of the Parflican's path. Owen fired, but missed as the creature ran out the kitchen.

They could hear the frenzied clacking of hooves as it raced out of the cafeteria and then another explosion as the door to the main building was blown open. Jack started to run in pursuit only to be stopped by Owen's shouts.

"Wait, Jack! I need to treat this woman first before we go tearing off! You're in no condition to go alone!"

Jack glanced at the woman; the back of her shirt was in tatters, exposing nasty burns on her body. Giving Owen a long, measuring look, he apologized. "I'm sorry; I can't' wait. You don't understand; I have to save them. Keep your comm. on; I'll call you if I need back-up." Not waiting for a reply, he darted out the door.

"Bollocks." Owen took out his medical kit and began to stabilize his patient.

Jack made a mad dash to the main reception area hoping to get a fix on the alien. His speed was rewarded as he stood still for a moment and heard the faint sound of cloven feet on the tile floor. Moving in the direction of the noise, he heard the unmistakable thud of a door slamming shut. Peering around the corner, Jack saw the door to the western hallway staircase. This is going to end badly, he thought as he slowly opened the door.

Worrying now about the potential paradox in the making, he climbed the stairs. He could still hear the Parflican as it awkwardly ascended the steps, and he knew it would be a race to kill it before it reached the second floor. Jack had no idea how far he was in his old timeline, but recognized that entering the hallways would be the height of stupidity. Above all, it was imperative that he not meet himself.

He was bringing his weapon up to fire when the alien opened the door and exited the stairwell. Frustrated, he went to the door and gazed out of the small, rectangular glass window. He could see that the scavenger he had been chasing was joined by another, and the two walked down the hall and out of his sight.

"Damn." He couldn't pursue, but perhaps Owen could. Still looking through the small window, he activated his comm. unit. "I could use some back-up, Owen. Where the hell are you?"

The medic immediately answered. "Still in the kitchen, although I've done what I can. Where are you?"

"I'm in a stairwell, western hallway, the one closest to you." Stiffening as he heard the ominous clacking noise directly behind him, he slowly started to turn around. "Shit," he managed to get out before his head exploded in pain and he tumbled unconscious down the steps to the landing below.

Owen heard Jack's expletive, a loud crash, and then experienced massive feedback in his earpiece. "Fuck!" he shouted as he ripped out the communications device. Gathering up the contents of his medical kit, he stuffed them inside his satchel, picked up his weapon and darted out of the kitchen.

Jack came back painfully to consciousness as the Parflican fed off the artron energy in his body. He frantically reached for his weapon and fired at point blank range. The impact of the pulse threw the alien off of him, and he rose unsteadily to his feet.

"Hurts like hell," he uttered ruefully as he leaned against the wall to catch his breath. A loud explosion on the floor above spurred him to action. His past would be on top of him if he didn't get out of the building. He couldn't wait for his medic. Staggering, he made his way to the eastern stairwell and out the front.

Moments later, Owen paused in the stairwell to study the dead alien. The Captain was nowhere to be seen, but there were streaks of red blood on some of the stairs leading to the second floor. Reaching the door, Owen eased it open, his weapon ready.

The hallway was dimly lit; the lights had seemingly exploded, and small shards of glass littered the floor. Treading carefully, Dr. Harper spied two dead aliens; one was missing the left side of its body, and the other's head was split in two. He then noticed a small group of people huddled together farther down the hallway. The shape of one looked very familiar. Walking slowly towards the group, Owen listened unnoticed for a few moments.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa dully watched Susan sob against Matthew and wondered how long it would be before one of the remaining aliens found them. She was tempted to close her eyes and simply go to sleep, hoping that all of this was some sort of bad dream.

"Shit." The loud sound of an unexpected expletive several feet behind her triggered Melissa's fight response, and she immediately jumped up, empty blaster in hand, to face the new threat.

"Put that down. I'm one of the good guys," Owen exclaimed testily as he slowly approached the group.

Melissa stood there, not answering. As soon as she had jumped to her feet, her body had started to feel oddly chilled, and her outstretched arms began to tingle with pins and needles. She shook her head slightly as her vision began to narrow, replaced by pinpricks of sparkling blackness.

"Fuck." Owen swore as he realized what was happening. He reached her just in time to ease her to the ground before she blacked out completely. Now he had two patients to deal with.

"Oi! You two! Get over here and help me. Your mother's gone into shock!" He had listened to Jack long enough before making his presence known to get a limited, if a trifle inaccurate, understanding of the situation.

"You," he started, pointing at Susan, "grab some of the jackets above the lockers and cover up your mum." Then motioning to Matthew he added, "Put some of the jackets underneath her feet and turn her on her side. Let me know if she starts to have trouble breathing. I'm going to take a look at your father's injuries, okay?"

Matthew nodded mutely, too traumatized to correct the stranger's assumptions. Then he began to help Susan with the coats.

"Jesus, Jack," Owen muttered as he pulled the handheld medical scanner out of his satchel. "You could have told me you were worried about your family. I'm not a complete bastard, you know."

Frowning, he studied the readings. His boss had two broken ribs that threatened to puncture his right lung. That explained the shallowness of breath. The burn on his side was less severe than it appeared, although it would need careful cleaning. The gash on the back of his head could use a few stitches, but the hairline skull fracture was much more worrying. The scanner also showed a brain injury, not surprising given the skull fracture, although it was impossible to determine the degree, even with the advanced medical equipment.

Pursing his lips, Owen decided to first clean and bandage the wound on Jack's side, so he could then bind the ribs. Once he had washed the wound, he had to pick out the bits of cloth that were embedded in the skin. Unconscious again, Jack didn't so much as twitch as Owen worked. Normally, the doctor would not have wrapped the ribs, but he knew how stubborn his boss could be, and assumed that he would insist on walking out of here as soon as he was able.

Taking out a pen light, he opened Jack's left eyelid, and shined the light in his eye. The pupil was sluggish to respond, but the light managed to rouse the Captain, who batted Owen's hand away.

"That hurts," he mumbled petulantly as he forced his eyes to open. He saw the blurry figure of a thin-lipped man staring intently at him.

"Stop being such a baby, Jack. I've seen you hurt worse weevil hunting," the man replied as he tested the reaction of Jack's right pupil.

"Am I supposed to know you?" the Captain asked warily as he finally grasped that the man had used his name.

"Is this another one of your stupid ideas of a joke, Harkness?"

The stranger's raised voice attracted the attention of Matthew, who left his mother's side. He quietly observed the man with his odd medical equipment and weapon. Neither looked like any technology he had read about on this Earth. Suddenly nervous, he decided to watch the stranger more closely.

Jack flinched several times as Owen poked and prodded his head, but he made an effort to stay silent. His thoughts were still sluggish, but he knew enough to be worried that the Time Agency, or worse yet, a bounty hunter, had finally caught him. He didn't want Melissa or the kids punished for his past.

Taking Jack's silence for criticism, Owen spoke up. "Look, Mate, I'm sorry I didn't get here fast enough to back you up on the stairs. You must have taken a bad fall when you killed that alien."

"Stairs?" Jack blurted out, puzzled. He hadn't killed any Parflicans on the stairs, had he?

"I'm assuming that's where you fell since that's where I found all the blood." He quickly closed the gash on Jack's head with eighteen neat stitches.

"Are you with the police?" Jack thoughtfully asked as the man finished tending his wounds. So far, the stranger hadn't placed him in restraints or threatened the kids; maybe he should give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Oi, Mate! I told you that joke's not—" Owen trailed off as he took a closer look at Jack's face. The Captain face was pale and drawn, and gave no hint that he was being anything other than sincere.

"Christ, you really don't recognize me, do you?" He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth when his boss gave a small shake of his head. "Okay, let's see what you do remember. Suzie Costello? Toshiko Sato? Torchwood?"

"FUCK!" Owen exploded as the supposed leader of Torchwood III stared blankly at him.

Jack flinched involuntarily at the man's frustrated outburst. His head was throbbing painfully in beat with his pulse, and it was getting harder to concentrate. Was Torchwood a Time Agency operation during those missing two years? Did that make the man friend or foe?

"Please," Jack began as the dizziness returned. "I don't care what you do to me. Just please get them out of here. There are more Parflicans out there. Please, I'll do anything." Everything was hazy again. Where was Melissa? Hadn't she been holding his hand, or had he just imagined her?

Owen looked at his boss in concern. He obviously had severe brain trauma, or else the alien had wiped part of his memory during the attack. Worse yet, Jack was getting more agitated by the minute. Then, he noticed the Captain's increasing pallor and cursed himself for not treating him for shock on top of his other injuries.

"Kid! Get some of those jackets for your Dad!" he shouted as he laid Jack down and tried to keep him conscious.

Matthew grabbed more coats from the hall and handed them to the man. He was really petrified now as the stranger wrapped Jack in coats, cursing frantically the entire time. Matthew prayed, making bargains with God as the man ran the scanner once again over the Captain.

"Shit, that was close." Owen watched Jack's temperature slowly stabilize as he shook the scanner in disbelief. How had his temperature dropped three degrees in less than half an hour? He was surprised that Jack could string words together; much less plead for his family's safety when his body had been experiencing that much stress. No wonder there was only the one other survivor. As he watched the Captain's color improve, Owen tried to determine how many aliens were left.

"Kid, can you sit next to your Dad for me? He needs to be as calm as possible, okay?" Addressing Jack, who was conscious but dazed, Owen tried to get him to understand. "Jack, you need to believe me. I'm trying to help you. I'm a doctor, and I know you. No one is going to hurt your family, understand? You need to stay calm and rest. I promise I won't let anything hurt your family."

His boss was at least looking at him, which Owen interpreted as a positive sign. "I need you to tell me how many aliens are down. Can you remember, Captain? How many have you killed?"

Jack listened to the drone of words above him, his thoughts sluggish. He was feeling much warmer than he had been, but his body was still uncomfortably cold. He could feel a comforting presence next to him and finally comprehended that Matthew was sitting by his side.

Matthew wasn't making the talking noise, though. Someone else was with him. That funny looking man was still next to Jack, and he was the one making all the noise. He sounded like he was saying something important, so he tried to concentrate. Aliens. How many aliens had he killed? Jack tried to remember and carefully answered the man, "Eight. I killed eight."

Owen wanted to shout in relief when Jack spoke, but restrained himself. "Good, that's good, Jack," he encouraged as he tried not to think about ten aliens still on the loose. "Where did you shoot them?"

"Five on the first floor, three on the second," he responded, his voice shaky, but filled with conviction.

"Is that counting the theater and cafeteria?" Owen needed to get as much information as possible while the Captain was still conscious, but hated to add stress to the brain injury. Knowing how many aliens were left could save all their lives, however.

"I don't remember those," he reluctantly admitted.

"Don't worry about it," Owen soothed, trying to keep his patient calm. "Just tell me the locations you do remember."

Matthew squeezed his hand encouragingly as Jack struggled to recall where he had been. "I killed three in a lavatory, first floor." He paused, trying to recall the other locations, "Two in the music room, first floor, two in a classroom on the opposite hallway, and one in this hallway." Jack stared hopefully up at Matthew and the man who was taking care of him. "That's eight, right?"

"That's eight," Owen agreed as Matthew nervously smiled at Jack.

"Okay, you killed two in the theater, and two in the cafeteria. I killed one, and you must have killed that one on the stairs. That's six more, plus that other one dead in this hallway." Owen quickly counted the total, "So that makes fifteen; I need to find three more."

"Mom killed three, including that one over there with its head split in two," Matthew piped up, surprising both men. "She killed them with a baseball bat," he added somewhat proudly.

Owen glanced at the woman who had pointed the gun at him in newfound admiration. She seemed to be sleeping while her daughter hovered protectively next to her. "Right, that still doesn't add up to eighteen; we're missing one."

As if on cue, they could all hear a door slam somewhere below them. "Speak of the devil," Owen noted dryly as he picked up his EMP cannon. "You're in no condition to go anywhere, Captain, so stay put." Dr. Harper sprinted down the hall to the staircase he had gone up earlier. Carefully, he opened the door and started back down.

Owen cautiously followed the noises until he came upon the last alien, who was cornered by two police officers at the main entrance to the school. Lining up the shot, he calmly neutralized the threat. Addressing the two officers, he stated, "My boss, Captain Harkness, is injured on the second floor. I need a medical team up their immediately. All hostiles are down. The building is clear, but there are a number of victims who need medical attention."

The officers looked at each other in puzzlement. The senior one of them addressed Owen. "Sir, Captain Harkness is sitting in his car. He is injured, but has refused our offers of medical treatment."

Confused, Owen apologized. "Sorry, he must have gotten out of the building while I was chasing down the last hostile. If you don't mind, I'm going to check and see how badly he's been hurt." The police officers readily agreed, thanking Owen for UNIT's assistance.

Reaching the car, the medic opened the passenger door to check on his patient. "Jesus, Owen! Don't startle me like that. My head feels like I went one too many rounds with a weevil." Jack barked at his medical officer, surprised at the look of concern on his face.

"You remember who I am, Jack? You remember Torchwood?" Owen asked somewhat tentatively.

"Of course I remember." Jack stopped speaking, his mind suddenly putting many pieces to a very old puzzle in place. "I mean, it's all sort of fuzzy still, but it's coming back."

Relieved, the medic took another look at Jack's head. "How did you manage to rip out the stitches?" Efficiently, he stitched Jack's head wound closed as he talked. "We need to get your wife to hospital. I'm not sure that she's simply suffering from shock. I hope to hell that your kids are with her; she really shouldn't be alone. And you definitely need to stay in the hospital overnight for observation. I have to admit I'm worried about that hairline skull fracture. You were pretty out of it back there. Christ, but you gave me a scare when you said you didn't remember Torchwood. I thought I was going to have to call Hartmann for sure."

"Wait just a minute and listen," the Captain ordered urgently, feeling slightly guilty that he would have to use retcon after Owen had shown so much compassion. "I am not going anywhere and neither is my family. I can't risk that bitch Yvonne finding out about Melissa, Susan and Matthew. I promised a long time ago to protect them, and that definitely means keeping them safe from Torchwood; do you understand me?" Jack truly hoped Owen did understand, but he was going to erase his memories with or without his consent.

Dr. Owen Harper considered the secret he had learned about his mysterious boss, and decided he did not want to bear the burden of keeping it. He thought about how much Jack gave to Torchwood on a daily basis, and he could certainly understand why the man would choose not to expose his loved ones to the danger of the rift, or the cold bureaucracy that was Torchwood I. Still, it shocked Owen to the core that Jack had loved ones in the first place, and on a certain level, he wished he could remember that one fact.

"You need to retcon me, Captain. Your family's too important not to. Just wait a few days so I can make sure that you're healing, okay?"

Touched by Owen's loyalty, Jack leaned back in the seat. "Sure, Owen. And I know that you won't remember it, but thank you, for everything. I'm sorry I was such a bastard earlier. Those things; they were targeting my family, and if it hadn't been for you, they would be dead."

Owen nodded, unsure of how to respond to his boss' honest apology. Sixty miles later, when Jack asked to stop at a rest area, Owen drank deeply from the water bottle he had been carrying in the car, the same bottle Jack had switched before Owen had ever exited the school. The water contained enough retcon to wipe out the entire day, and had an added sedative that would make the doctor sleep until they reached Las Vegas. Later, Owen would merely think that he had overindulged in all that the city had to offer.


	8. Aftermath

Author's Notes - Okay, I've shaved off around 3,500 words from the original chapter. I have no idea if I've made it better or worse, or if it even makes any sense. If you've got an opinion one way or the other, I'd love to hear it.

* * *

><p>Eighteen? Sitting against the school lockers, Jack was getting confused again. Had the doctor said there were eighteen aliens? Surely, he had misunderstood. No matter, he had to get them all to safety while he still could. Straining to stay conscious, he wearily ordered, "Matt, empty out that satchel."<p>

Matthew promptly complied, showing Jack the medical scanner first. "At least twenty-fourth century," he absently commented as he frowned at the readings. Next, Matthew showed him a first-aid kit, surprisingly ordinary aside from the sterilized scalpels and dissolving sutures. Then, he found several vials of something labeled retcon. Jack put those back since he had no idea what they were. Finally, Matthew handed him a small plastic case filled with drug patches.

"Jackpot," he murmured as he rummaged through the patches. Holding up a purple patch to better read its contents, he tried to concentrate long enough to weigh his options. Staying here would mean, at best, a trip to the hospital, lots of awkward questions, and possibly an extended stay at some secret government facility. At worst, they could all be taken back to the Time Agency, Melissa and her family used as leverage against him.

He could try to get them out of the school unassisted, but it would be an iffy prospect with the dizziness. Or, he could slap the purple patch right over his heart, and get enough of a dose of adrenaline, pain blockers and certain as yet undiscovered narcotics to ensure he felt no pain for quite a while. Maybe even long enough to make it home. There really wasn't anything else to consider. Peeling the backing off the patch, he slapped it against his chest.

It was all he could do not to hop up and start running around. What a rush! He had to remind himself that his injuries were still present, even if he couldn't feel them at the moment. Jumping up, he made a beeline for Melissa.

"Sir?"

Matthew stared in astonishment as Jack strode confidently over to his mother and shook her awake. Something was not right; people just didn't recover that fast. Suspicious, Matthew picked up the plastic case Jack had been so interested to find. Opening it up, he realized that the case was filled with medicine patches. Quickly sorting through, Matthew found the used backing to one of the patches and read its contents. "That can't be good," he whispered to himself as he picked up the medical kit.

Watching Melissa slowly wake up, Jack broke out in a megawatt grin. "We need to get out of here. Think you can walk?"

"Jack? You sure you're okay?"

"Never been better," he lied happily. Once they were safely down the stairs, he asked Melissa, "Care to show me how you snuck in here?"

She led them towards the gymnasium at fast as she could walk. "It's about a quarter mile to the car. You sure you can make it, Jack?" She was uneasy; he seemed to be fine now, but he was so sick earlier. Something was not adding up.

"I could run to the car and drive it back if you can't keep up." He seriously considered running ahead. He felt like he could run a marathon without breaking a sweat as long as he ignored the hammering in his chest.

"How about we stay together. I'd feel a lot safer that way."

Graciously assenting to her request, the Captain joked with Susan and Matthew as he urged them along the trail. Melissa had to admit that he was doing an excellent job keeping the twins from dwelling on the horrors they had just experienced. If only he would look her in the eye; he seemed to be avoiding her gaze, and it made her nervous.

Jack and the kids pulled ahead of her as they approached the car. Panting to catch up, Melissa watched in shock as he fell to the ground like a stone.

"Jack!"

Kneeling beside him, she rolled him gently over to check to see if he was breathing. She was stunned at what she saw. His breaths were coming in short, shallow gasps and his entire body was trembling. His pulse raced much to fast, and she struggled to reconcile these new symptoms with his previous injuries. Horrified, she also noticed that blood was trickling out his left ear.

"You need to undo his shirt."

Not sparing the time it would take to ask Matthew questions, Melissa hastily unbuttoned Jack's shirt. She could see a rectangular purple patch about three inches long and two inches wide stuck to Jack's chest. She ripped it off and placed it on the back of her hand.

"Mom," her son said in warning, but she ignored him, keeping the patch against her skin. Not a minute later, her body felt a terrific rush and her aches and exhaustion vanished. Her heart, however, felt like she had overdosed on cold medication. She immediately peeled the patch off her hand and dropped it to the ground.

"Matt, help me get him in the car," she barked as she grabbed Jack under the arms. She easily carried him to the backseat while her son supported his legs. Taking a step towards the driver's seat, she felt her legs wobble as she crashed to the ground. Her exhaustion had returned tenfold and it was all she could do to hand the keys to Susan and crawl in the backseat with Jack.

"Drive, Susan," she ordered weakly, cradling Jack's head in her lap.

"But I've only got a learner's permit," Susan protested, slightly hysterical.

"That's the least of our problems, Sis!" Matthew shouted at her, snapping her to her senses. "Now turn the car around and get us the hell out of here!"

They made it back to the house without being stopped by the police, although Susan had to pull over several times to let ambulances pass. Pulling up into the driveway, Matthew and Susan half dragged, half carried Jack to their mother's bed as she followed lethargically behind. Her strength was slowly returning, but she was in no condition to carry anyone now.

The teens stood awkwardly next to the bed as she checked Jack's vital signs. He was breathing easier, although his heart was still beating much too fast, and his skin was cold and clammy. Melissa began to unlace his boots and gave curt orders to the teens, "Sue, heat up some soup and fix some hot tea. Matt, bring me that woolen blanket that's on Jack's bed and some clean towels."

Susan nodded and quickly left the room. Melissa continued to undress Jack, stripping him completely of his damp clothes. Matthew returned promptly with the blanket and towels, but seeing Captain Harkness so still, he dropped them on the chair and quickly left, closing the door behind her.

As the door closed, Melissa bent over Jack to feel the beating of his heart. "You better not die, Jack Harkness, because I'm going to kill you if you do.

Half dozing, She was awoken by the sound of Susan coming into the room. "Thought you could use some tea," her daughter said as she handed Melissa an insulated travel mug filled with the hot beverage.

"Thank you," she replied absently. "How are you doing?" she added when she guiltily realized that she hadn't asked.

Susan shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I mean, nothing happened to me, so I should feel fine, right?" Melissa saw that her daughter's lip was trembling, and felt a pang of remorse that she had overlooked her children's trauma to tend to Jack.

"Come here, Sue." Melissa beckoned her onto her lap, but Susan stared at her mother's blood stained clothes and hair and shook her head. Instead, she knelt on the soft rug by the bed and rested her head on the padded armrest of the chair.

Melissa patted her daughter's hair as she began to speak. "It's okay not to feel fine after something like this, Sue. You were so brave, and I'm so proud of you, but that doesn't mean you can't feel scared or upset or even angry."

Susan lifted her head up from the chair. "Were you afraid, Mom?'

"Terrified," she admitted with a small sniff. "But right now I'm happy you and Matthew weren't hurt, and sad that other people were killed."

Susan thought pensively for a moment before asking, "Are you afraid he's going to die?"

"Sue," Melissa started, her voice wavering with emotion that she had been swallowing ever since Jack had collapsed. "I really can't think that way, or I won't be able to help him, if that makes any sense."

"I think I understand," her daughter answered after a moment's delay. Then, looking intently at her mother, she suggested, "You need a shower. I'll stay here and let you know if anything changes while you go take one."

Melissa was about to decline her daughter's offer when she looked down at her jeans. They were stiff with Jack's blood and speckled with blue bits of things she didn't want to contemplate. Suddenly, the urge to be clean was overwhelming.

She scrubbed her hair until her scalp tingled, and used a quarter of a bottle of body wash to scrub the blood and grime off her body. She would have stayed in the shower until the hot water ran cold, but her concern for Jack prompted her to get out after only ten minutes. Drying off, she dressed in a warm pair of baggy sweats and put her wet hair in a tight braid.

The Captain's condition had not noticeably changed, and Melissa again thanked Susan for letter her take a shower. Poor girl, she looked like the bedroom was the last place she wanted to be. Anytime Jack's face twitched, she practically jumped in fear.

"Would you send your brother in, Sue?"

"Sure," Susan answered quickly, glad to be relieved of her responsibility.

Matthew ran into the room, and taking one look at Jack, threw himself into his mother's arms. His entire body shook as he tearfully apologized for being responsible for the Captain's injuries. Hating that he felt such guilt, his mother did her best to reassure him, but she wasn't sure that she'd succeeded.

Left alone with Jack, Melissa helplessly watched him thrash through several delirious nightmares. She cried when he whimpered for Gray and relived periods of torture, betrayal and battle. Hours later, he finally woke, feverish and still delirious. She pressed a cool, damp wash cloth against his forehead. He grabbed her arm, and she didn't have the heart to pull away.

"Don't hurt them," he mumbled over and over, and it pierced Melissa's soul to hear the desperate pleading in his voice. She soothed him as best she could until he fell back into a troubled sleep.

Emotionally exhausted, she watched him until her eyelids drooped. When she woke, she felt the stillness of the quiet house. Checking Jack, she noted that his forehead was now cool and he appeared to be sleeping peacefully. She went into the bathroom, and was surprised to find him awake when she returned.

"Hey there." She tenderly kissed his forehead.

He closed his eyes briefly as she touched him; then asked in a tired voice, "Can you help me to the toilet?"

"Can you manage that?"

"I need to manage it," he argued with more confidence than he felt. "Just might need some help getting there."

Sighing because she knew she couldn't talk him out of it, she helped him slowly sit up. "Way too many hypervodkas," he complained as he lurched to the bathroom. Melissa supported him as he made his way to the toilet, although he insisted he could do the rest by himself. Somehow, he managed not to fall, and stumbled safely back to bed.

"You have way too many clothes on," Jack crooned dreamily as she pulled up the covers to tuck him in. She took a very deep, cleansing breath, understanding that his mind was still very muddled. He was asleep again in just a few minutes, although he fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable. She slept fitfully in the chair until a little after five in the morning, when he woke her with a frightened shout.

"It's okay, Jack. You're okay now."

He calmed down immediately, but still looked extremely disoriented. Tightly pressing his forehead he asked, "Where am I?"

She didn't try to explain the events of the last day. "You've been hurt, but we're taking care of you. Lie back down and try to get some rest."

Docilely, he complied, falling once again into a restful sleep. The same pattern repeated throughout the day and night. Every few hours he would wake for a few minutes, sometimes peacefully, but more often than not from a nightmare. Sometimes, he would stay awake long enough to go to the bathroom, or drink a few sips of Gatorade. Melissa managed to get him into a pair of warm pajamas during one of those times. The rest of the time he merely stared quizzically at whoever was watching him until he drifted off again.

She could only hope that his brain was healing during his bouts of rest. He gave no verbal indication that he recognized any of them, but sometimes he smiled at them during his brief intervals of wakefulness. She checked his head and side for signs of infection, but found none. It was apparent that breathing was still quite painful, but he seemed to be more comfortable than the day before. Still, it was a stressful time for the three Morgans as they waited for him to recover.

Monday morning dawned far too early for all of them. Melissa had spent a sleepless night worrying about her kids' first day back at school. She pasted a cheerful smile on her face and put on her robe to fix her children a hot breakfast. Susan and Matthew were already dressed and eating oatmeal when she walked into the kitchen.

"You don't have to go today, if you don't want to."

"Yes, we do," her son contradicted. "We can't hide here forever. Besides, we're sick of being in the house."

"Do you want me to drive you?" She was still in her pajamas, but was more than willing to drive them to school if that would make their transition back any easier.

They both relaxed visibly; they had been worried about reporters bothering them if they took the bus. Thankful, Matthew replied for both of them. "That would be great, Mom."

After circling the lot like a vulture at least three times trying to find a spot to park, Matthew lost his patience. "You don't have to park, Mom. We can walk in the building by ourselves. We're not kindergartners!"

"Of course you're not," she agreed quickly, trying not to take offense. "I just thought it would be easier." She trailed off, knowing she couldn't protect them from the painful memories and grief they would experience today and many days afterward.

"Nothing's going to be easy about today, but we're going to be okay, Mom." Susan spoke confidently, but the anxious expression on her face betrayed her.

Returning home, Melissa kicked off her wet boots near the garage door. Hungry, she walked into the kitchen, but stopped short as she saw Jack sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee, his sonic blaster pointed directly at her.

"Have a seat," he smiled graciously, gesturing with the blaster. "You're going to answer some questions for me. Great coffee, by the way."

Trying very hard not to cry, she sat warily in the chair opposite his. "Oh, I think you can come a little closer than that, Sweetheart." Jack continued to smile, but his eyes were suddenly cold and calculating. "Never know what a pretty thing like you may have hidden up her sleeve, or down her shirt for that matter."

Before she could sit in the chair next to his, he pulled her tightly to him and pushed his hands roughly up her sweater, checking for hidden weapons. His hands lingered on her breasts for an uncomfortably long time. He did the same down her legs, the process no less degrading or intimate as he kept his hands on the outside of her jeans. Finally, he gave her behind a rough squeeze and laughed harshly in her ear.

"Just being thorough. No hidden weapons and nicely proportioned. My kind of woman."

Revulsion twisted her stomach and she was thankful she'd only had a cup of coffee that morning. This was not the Jack she knew, and yet it was perfectly clear to her that this man was part of him. His mannerisms, his charm were too much in character with what she had seen of her Jack to think this was solely the result of his brain injury. No, this was Jack, stuck somewhere in the past, all the more dangerous for his confusion.

"You don't know what you're doing." She worried more about the guilt he would feel when he came to his senses than anything he might do to her.

Resting his blaster against her neck, he demanded, "Where am I?"

"You're at my house. You were injured, hit you head. I've been taking care of you."

He countered with an impatient edge to his voice, "I meant which planet am I on."

"Fine," she spat angrily. She was getting tired of his abuse, and the only thing keeping her from elbowing him in the ribs was the fear that she could puncture his lung. "You're on Earth." Anticipating his next question, she added, "It's October 2005, if you must know."

"Feisty. I like that." What was he doing on Earth in the early twenty-first century? The Time Agency usually avoided the tipping point in humanity's growth like the plague.

"Don't you want to know what you're doing here?"

"I'm escaping, Sweetheart. Thought that would be obvious."

He abruptly let go of her and she jumped off his lap. "Does this look like a prison to you, you stupid ape?" Melissa was angry enough to want to shove him out the front door, but reminded herself that he was not playing with a full deck at the moment.

Jack stared at her, suddenly confused. Come to think of it, this didn't look like any prison he'd ever seen, but that didn't mean it wasn't one, did it?

Seeing his momentary confusion, she pressed. "Was the bedroom door locked? Were you tied up? The front door was locked from the inside, or did you not check that? Have you seen any weapons except yours here? Was I armed? Have I tried to hurt you?"

He grasped his head as it began to pound, broken images tumbling into his brain. He pointed his blaster at her, but she didn't look impressed.

"It doesn't work, you know. You drained the battery."

Moving the blaster a few feet to the right of her, he pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He stared blankly at his weapon and then at her.

"How?"

"How what?" she asked, still afraid to come closer.

"How did I drain the battery?" he clarified as he carefully probed the stitched together lump on his head.

"Fighting Parflicans," she said warily, unsure of his reaction.

The tumble of images in Jack's mind became a choppy torrent, and he bent his head down, groaning weakly. "I think I'm going to be sick."

She supported him as he vomited and then dry-heaved into the toilet. Then, she wiped a warm washcloth against his face, wondering if he'd ever regain his senses. After soothing him to sleep, she curled up into a tight ball on the now well-used chair beside the bed. She cried to herself, silently, until she had no tears left.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa watched the bus roll to a stop. Taking Matthew's trumpet case in her hand, she walked up the hill. "So, how bad was it?"

"Not too bad," Matthew grunted as he almost slipped on the wet grass. "Everything's been cleaned and painted, so the whole school stinks. But it was hard being on the second floor today." He paused, again reliving those moments in the hallway when Jack had pulled him away from the aliens. "Most of the kids acted nicer than normal. Some of the jocks even talked to me. It was weird."

"What about you, Susan?" Melissa prompted when her daughter didn't add any comments on her own.

"I kept thinking about Mr. Jenkins today," she admitted. "He was a nice teacher." Melissa squeezed her daughter's hand in sympathy.

Walking into the warm house, they all hung up their rain jackets and piled their wet boots at the door. Leading them into the kitchen to get some popcorn, Melissa froze as she saw Jack sitting at the kitchen table, the sonic blaster in front of him.

He looked up absently, not noticing the fear in her eyes or the way she was protectively holding her children behind her. "Melissa, do you know why this is on the table? It's not a toy, you know."

"Jack?" she asked hesitantly, her voice cracking.

"What?" He looked at her in confusion, finally realizing that something was wrong.

"Do you know who I am?" She tried desperately not to get her hopes up as she waited for his answer.

"You're unforgettable," he flirted automatically, but stopped suddenly, his face serious as he began to process her question. "How long have I been out of it?"

"Four days," she replied with calmness she didn't think possible. "It's good to have you back." A relieved smile broke out on her face as Jack made a small "oh" in surprise.

Then, he was being gently embraced by three very relieved and happy people. "Miss me much?" he asked dryly after Melissa had passionately kissed him in full view of her children.

"You have no idea."

After a few more minutes of fussing over Jack, Sue looked significantly at her brother. "Come on, Matthew; the least we can do is give them a little privacy."

"Yeah," he agreed, "Mom gets any mushier and I'll be gagging." He smiled when he said it, though.

As he followed Susan out the kitchen door, he paused for a moment and looked Jack directly in the eye. "We're glad you're better, Dad." He walked quickly down the hall before the Captain could do more than sputter in surprise.

"Did he just call me Dad?" Jack blushed in shocked embarrassment, and it was all Melissa could do not to explode in laughter. She had never seen Jack Harkness blush before, and probably never would again. Too, bad, he looked adorable.

"I think it was a one-time thing. I wouldn't expect to hear it from him again," she warned, laughing softly.

"No, of course not," he quickly agreed, trying to maintain some sort of emotional balance as he tried to remember anything that might have prompted Matthew's declaration. "So, four days. Long time, huh?"

Tears threatening to spill, she turned towards the stove to hastily dry her eyes. She was determined not to cry when she was so happy. She began to heat some chicken soup on the stove. "It's over," she said flatly, not wanting to dwell on his long recovery or his earlier actions.

Something was bothering her terribly; he was certain of it. Maybe it was just the stress of taking care of him for such a long time, though. Deciding questions could wait, he watched her heat the soup and slice some bread.

"Aren't you going to eat?" She had only put down a single bowl and a small plate of bread in front of him.

"I will in a little while. It's only four-thirty." She smiled tentatively at him and he returned her smile with a happy grin. Yet, he wondered at her hesitancy around him.

Only eating half the bowl of soup and a bit of bread, he found his stomach was full. "Guess I'm not as hungry as I thought," he apologized as she emptied his half-eaten meal into the garbage. "Actually, I'm pretty tired; think I may just take a nap."

"Please don't go back to sleep."

"Melissa, what's wrong?" He watched her try to hide the panic in her eyes. Concerned, he pulled her onto his lap. She didn't pull away, but sat there stiff and unmoving. He rubbed her back until he felt her tension melt away, and she finally put her head against his left shoulder. "You can tell me. What's the matter?"

"I'm scared."

"Scared of what?" She looked drained, her pale face sported dark smudges under her eyes and with a pang of guilt, he realized that he hadn't seen her look that tired since coming home from the hospital.

"You didn't know who I was," she admitted, her breath hitching.

He pulled her into a hug, ignoring the pain of his injuries. "I'm sorry. But, I'm not going to forget you again. I promise."

"Told you I was being stupid."

"You look as tired as I feel. Why don't you go to bed, too?"

"The kids haven't eaten dinner. I have too many things to do right now; maybe later." She protested half-heartedly, wishing that she could fall into bed right then.

Jack marched down the hall and rapped sharply on the twin's bedroom doors. Instantly, they appeared in their doorways, curious. He studied them closely, noticing the same looks of exhaustion and grief that was evident in their mother's face. He was tired, his side hurt like hell and his head throbbed painfully, but he could make the effort for all their sakes; they had all obviously made the effort for him.

"How much sleep did you two get last night?"

"Maybe an hour," Susan admitted sheepishly.

"I win; I got at least three," Matthew added with a touch of humor in his voice.

"That's my man, Matthew," Jack commented, surprised to see the boy soak up his praise. "Anyway, I thought we could go to KFC for dinner, maybe even get some Krispy Kreme for dessert and then all make an early evening of it. What do you say?"

"Sounds perfect!"

"You've get two broken ribs and a head injury, Jack," Melissa cautioned as she heard his plan.

"Really? Well, that explains why my side and head hurt. Don't worry, you can drive."

They picked up two buckets of chicken and large orders of mashed potatoes, coleslaw and baked beans before pulling into the Krispy Kreme parking lot. There, they bought a dozen assorted doughnuts, enough for dessert and breakfast the next morning if Matthew did not make a pig of himself. They all talked happily about inconsequential things, avoiding the topic of the school by unspoken agreement. Only Melissa noticed that Jack managed just a few bites before pushing his food haphazardly around his plate. When she could tell that the strain of being charming was wearing him down, she ordered him to take a shower and go to bed.

"Yes ma'am," he replied, giving her a jaunty salute. He was very grateful for the excuse to leave; the act of entertaining Susan and Matthew had been taxing. He was pleased that he had managed to get a few smiles out of them, however.

"Are you two really going to be okay if I go to bed early?"

"Don't worry about us, Mom. We're both going to sleep once the sugar rush wears off. It's only seven, after all. I promise we'll be in bed by nine." Susan assured her mother as she licked chocolate off her fingers.

"Speak for yourself, Sue. I don't have any problem sleeping on a full stomach. I'm going to bed soon." Matthew, too, licked icing off his fingers, although he had the decency to use a napkin once his mother gave him a pointed look.

"I'm going to pretend I believe you. 'Night, you two," she said fondly as she kissed her children good night. Waiting for Jack in her room, she changed the sheets, and then got dressed for bed. Deciding to lie down for a moment, she wearily closed her eyes and was soon fast asleep, the overhead light still shining.

Taking a steamy shower, Jack tried not to think about the new hole in his memory. It would come back gradually, or not at all, and he had learned to live with longer memory loss. Toweling off, he inspected the scab on his side and bump on his head. Both were still painful, and he was careful not to poke at them too much. He found he could take a deep breath if he really needed to, but the pain was severe enough not to want to unless absolutely necessary. Trying not to bend down too quickly and add to his headache, he pulled on a pair of blue flannel drawstring pants. Lying on the guest bed, trying to get comfortable, he wondered why he was having such a difficult time falling asleep when he felt so tired. After readjusting his pillow for at least the ninth time, he squinted in irritation when the overhead light to his bedroom flicked on. Matthew stood in the doorway.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Trying to get some sleep." Jack was too tired to keep the grumpiness out of his voice.

The teen gave him a funny look. "You're in the wrong room. This is the guest bedroom. You're not a guest."

Seeing Jack's look of confusion, Matthew added kindly, "You've been sleeping in Mom's room for days now."

"I have?" Jack was stunned. Wasn't this the same kid who was giving him the cold shoulder for just existing a few weeks ago?

"You know, Dad," Matthew mention conversationally as he helped Jack out of bed. "The next time you save my life, you may want to duck. We wouldn't have to worry about you dying that way. Besides, that blow to your head has really messed with your mind."

Stunned again by the teen's offhand comment, Jack managed a nod in agreement. Bidding Matthew a heartfelt goodnight, he walked swiftly through the den to get to Melissa's bedroom. Opening the door, he saw that she had fallen asleep with the light on. He managed to crawl in without waking her. It was much easier finding a comfortable position in this bed, and he let his thoughts wander as he slowly drifted to sleep.

Twisting awake from his nightmare, a strangled "NO!" escaped his lips. The sudden movement had hurt, and he tried not to curse as he lay back down. It hardly mattered. He had woken her anyway.

"You okay?"

"Nightmare. It's okay, Melissa; go back to sleep."

His nightmare had been disturbing, though, and some of his anxiety must have bled through into his voice because she turned on her beside lamp and faced him. "Want to talk about it?"

"No." He wasn't ready to face what may or may not have happened at the school.

"Okay, but I'm here if you need me." She replied sympathetically as she rolled over and turned off the light.

Jack lay in the dark thinking for a long while. He was tired of being tired, and didn't believe he could force himself to sleep again that night. Idly, he watched Melissa sleep, her scarred back turned towards him. Becoming bored of merely watching her, he gingerly moved his body next to hers, cautious not to strain his injuries.

She burrowed unconsciously closer to him and he kissed her neck, breathing in the citrus scent of her skin. Awake, she tensed. "Jack Harkness, what do you think you're doing?" Her voice held the same exasperated tone she might have used on a toddler caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Thought that was obvious," he replied smugly as he continued to nuzzle her neck.

"Aren't you tired?"

"No," he answered roughly, pulling her even closer to him, "not at all."

Feeling compelled to offer one more feeble protest, Melissa argued, "But your ribs are broken." In truth, she wanted, needed, this as much as he did.

"Consider it a challenge."


	9. Crash and Burn

Author's Notes - Okay, I've split the original chapter again. At 9,000 words, it was probably too long.

* * *

><p>Melissa let Jack sleep while she got Matthew and Susan off for their second day back at school. Her children looked much better after a full night's rest, although she had no doubt that today would be just as trying as yesterday had been for them, if not more so. The leftover doughnuts were a welcome distraction, and the three spent some extra time at the kitchen table talking about the upcoming day.<p>

"I have physics today," Susan declared nervously as she and Matthew picked up their backpacks to head out the door.

"You'll do fine, Sue," Jack resolutely informed her as he suddenly appeared behind them.

Melissa smiled in relief. Susan had brightened visibly on hearing Jack's encouragement, and she brightened visibly. Even Matthew seemed to have gained confidence. Maybe her kids' day wouldn't be so horrible after all.

"I'm driving them to school. Do you want to come along?"

"I'll pass today. Think I'll use the spare time to shave. Unless you think I'd look better with a beard?" There was a definite gleam in his eye as he asked the question. She had complained several times of getting scratched by his scruffy face the night before.

"Don't do the whole mountain man thing, Dad. It's bad enough you wear those flannel shirts." Matthew grinned as he spoke, relieved to see some normalcy returning to the house.

"Hey, they're warm!" Jack griped. "Get your mother to move to Florida if you don't like them."

"Yeah, well, Mom's got this thing against reptiles. You'd never get her to Florida, too many alligators. Don't know how she grew up in Louisiana, actually." Suddenly remembering that he needed his trumpet, Matthew raced to his room, picked up his instrument case, and yelled, "See ya!" as he finally raced out the door.

Jack closed and locked the door, resting against it for several long minutes before he had the strength to walk to the bedroom to get dressed.

Forty minutes later, Melissa arrived home to find him on the sofa, clean-shaven and dressed in jeans and a dark blue Oxford shirt. "You're not going to give up wearing flannel shirts just because Matthew teased you, are you?"

"Of course not, just giving variety a chance." He continued to flip through TV stations with the remote control, but she noted that he wasn't really interested in watching anything.

Leaning over him, she responded, "Good, because mountain men can be quite sexy."

The v-neck cashmere sweater she was wearing gave him a perfect view of her lacy black bra as she bent down to kiss him. "So can cashmere."

"Later," she promised as she deepened her kiss. "Right now I've got some work to do on the computer. I could use your help if you're up for it."

"I'm always up for it," he assured her suggestively.

"I'm quite sure of that." She led him into the guest bedroom and showed him the design problem she was having on one of her client's websites.

After scrutinizing the screen for a few moments, Jack tiredly leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. "Sorry, it's just giving me too much of a headache. Think I'm going to sit in the recliner and sleep for a while."

Watching him leave, she tried not to worry too much. She knew he had overtaxed himself, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Or maybe she had just been needy and selfish. Sighing, she turned her attention back to the computer and tried to concentrate on her work.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Waking abruptly to the insistent ringing of the doorbell, Jack had no idea of where he was and instinctively jumped out of the chair to better face whatever was threatening. His movements caused his head and side to throb painfully, acutely reminding him of why he was sleeping when the sun was brightly shining.

Hearing Melissa already at the door, he relaxed until he heard her raise her voice and agitatedly order someone to get out of her house. Sprinting to stand protectively beside her, he was surprised to see a burly man in some sort of tan military uniform and red beret reluctantly back up.

"Who are you?" the man demanded belligerently when he noted Jack's presence.

"Captain Jack Harkness, and who the hell are you?" he responded with steel in his voice. Something about the visitor made him extremely wary.

Eyes narrowing, the man replied, "Your reputation precedes you, Captain." His voice dripped with distaste as he continued. "I assume it was you who left us with such a mess to clean up at the school. Very sloppy."

"Well, you know what they say about assuming something." Jack grinned pleasantly, but the guy was really starting to piss him off.

"Jack, this is Major Marshall of UNIT," Melissa explained nervously as the two men glared at each other. Jack had the same pleasant, yet predatory, expression on his face that she had seen yesterday when he had pointed his blaster at her. The situation was making her very uneasy, although she was glad to have him standing beside her. Something about the major's attitude was sending alarm bells ringing in her head.

The major broke the stare first. "Are you here on official business, Captain Harkness? Because if you are, then I am warning you; you are very far from home." He took a step forward, his body once again in the doorway.

Stepping in front of Melissa, Jack put himself in Marshall's personal space. "My business here is my own, and I'd appreciate it if you would back off. I don't need UNIT's permission to be here."

Inwardly, Jack was confused. Why was Melissa being harassed by UNIT? The Doctor had had nothing put praise for the organization for which he had once worked. His chest was really starting to hurt, and it took all of his willpower to maintain his outward defiance.

"You are interfering with a UNIT asset, so that makes it my business, Captain." Major Marshall put his right hand on his gun holster.

What was the idiot trying to prove? Why wouldn't he back off? "If you're referring to Melissa, she's no one's asset, especially UNIT's. Where was UNIT when the school was attacked?" As he desperately tried to keep focused, the room became blurry, blinking in and out of focus.

Not noticing the Captain's condition, Marshall continued, "She pops up out of nowhere with two children and buys a house with UNIT funds. She better consider herself a UNIT asset, or we may just have to haul her and her kids in for a few tests." Marshall's eyes were pinned on Melissa as he addressed Jack. His expression all but shouted 'we own you'.

Jack leaned casually up against the door frame as he fought to stay upright. "I don't think your former scientific advisor would be pleased to know you consider his bank account to be UNIT funds. I'm sure he earned his salary on more than one occasion."

"Why do you think she and her brats are so interesting, Captain? Those funds have remained untouched for thirty years, and suddenly they're used to hide a very peculiar little family. And don't think for a minute I believe some freak of nature like you could have fathered those kids."

"Jack's not their fa—" Melissa replied hotly, forgetting for a minute that on paper at least he was indeed Susan and Mathew's father. She snapped her mouth shut wishing she could take her words back.

Alarmed at the direction of the conversation, Jack decided belligerence was his best option. "Threaten the kids, and I will kill you."

His comment seemed to both intimidate and enrage the other man. While tightening his grip on his holster, he took another step backwards. "Does that mean the Doctor doesn't need his mole in Torchwood anymore?"

Fuzzy images flickered painfully in his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. He had heard the name Torchwood recently, hadn't he? Refocusing on the current situation, he knew he had to end it soon, or risk losing consciousness in front of Marshall.

"I may be many things, but that isn't one of them. Stay away from Melissa. She's not an asset. She's a person." Pausing, he smiled unpleasantly. "Unless you would like me to contact your former scientific advisor directly?"

"You're bluffing," Marshall replied confidently, although there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

Jack straightened, using his height advantage to glower down at the man. "Do I look like I'm bluffing?"

Melissa noticed that Jack's face had turned ashen and his forehead was suddenly lined with sweat. Worried, she stepped in front of him, stabbing Marshall in the chest with her finger. "You are going to leave. I've made it perfectly clear that I don't want to talk to you. Now, unless you want Jack to make a certain phone call, I suggest you go, because I can assure you Captain Harkness does not bluff."

Marshall took her finger and twisted it enough to make her grimace in pain. "This isn't over," he promised as he gave them both a curt nod. They watched silently in the doorway while the UNIT officer stalked back to his blue sedan and roared away.

"What the hell?" Sagging against the wall, he attempted to breathe deeply in order to clear his head, but he couldn't manage it. It felt like someone was squeezing his chest, and he really wished they would stop.

"You don't look so good," she remarked as she locked the door.

"Don't feel so good, either," he admitted.

She tried to help him to the den, but it was obvious that he was not going to be able to walk that far. Scared, she had him sit on the floor near the front door. "Is it your ribs?"

"Must be. Feels like someone's squeezing my chest. I can't get a good breath. Dizzy, too." Sweat continued to bead on his forehead and he felt unusually chilled.

"One of your ribs must have punctured your lung. I'm calling nine-one-one this time whether you like it or not." She waited a moment to see if he would argue, but he did not protest. She was digging her cell phone out of her pocket when the doorbell started to ring insistently.

Terrified that Marshall had returned, she hissed at Jack, "What do we do?" When he didn't answer, she anxiously turned to him, and was horrified to see that he had slumped over, unconscious.

Laying him carefully on the ground, she immediately realized that he was not breathing, nor could she find a pulse. Her fear of Marshall forgotten, she screamed as she began chest compressions. "You are not going to do this to me, Jack! Do you understand me? Got damn it! You are not going to die!

So intent was she on performing CPR that she did not hear the front door being wrenched open. Nor did she hear Rose's gasp of alarm as she took in the frantic scene before her. Not until the Doctor had pulled her off of Jack to press his sonic screwdriver against his chest did Melissa realize that once again, the cavalry had come to call. Jack was going to get a second chance at a miracle.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor sat stiffly on the footstool in Melissa's bedroom, watching the slow rise and fall of his companion's chest. It had been twenty-seven hours since he and Rose had returned to Colorado Springs. All but the first two frantic hours had been spent in this room, waiting tensely to see if his friend was going to recover. The Time Lord had cheated again, but told himself it hardly mattered; the man technically belonged to the fifty-first century, not the twenty-first. Still, there was that small, nagging doubt that they had been too late.

Turning his attention away from his friend, he gazed at Melissa, who was snoring in the chair next to him, her head fallen forward, her feet curled under her. She had fallen asleep from exhaustion only an hour ago, and the Doctor briefly considered scooping her up and putting her under the covers next to Jack, but dismissed the thought for now. If he moved her, she might wake up, and he had a hunch that she would need all the sleep she could get.

Somewhere else in the house, Rose, Susan and Matthew were holding a similar vigil, but none of them had been brave enough to enter the room since he had announced that only time would tell whether Jack would live or die. There was only so much damage a body could take, and it was painfully apparent that Jack's body had taken more than its fair share in the last week or so.

Inwardly, he thanked the TARDIS once again; if they had returned when they were supposed to, then his friend would be lying in a morgue, not a bed. She definitely felt the timelines much more acutely than he ever could. Still, it was not every day that she interfered on such a scale. Curious, he speculated on her motivation as he continued his lonely vigil, never once tempted to look for himself at Jack's personal timeline for fear he would see that it was far too short.

Wrapped up in his thoughts, he almost missed his patient's eyes flying open. As his friend struggled to sit, the Doctor gently pushed him back down. "Easy there. Don't want you to undo all the frankly fantastic work I did on your body, Captain."

As Jack shot him a weak, but lecherous grin, he laughed softly in reply. "Not that kind of work. You'll have to buy me a drink when you're stronger if you want that." Squeezing his hand on Jack's shoulder, he sobered. "Go back to sleep, lad. You're going to need your rest."

Eyes already starting to close, he did just that. Relieved, the Doctor carefully unhooked him from all the equipment that he had pulled frantically from the TARDIS as Rose had kept Jack's heart beating with the sonic screwdriver while Melissa performed mouth-to-mouth. Yes, he was very thankful that the TARDIS had arrived in the nick of time; he just wished the old girl could have given him a little more leeway in this instance. Seeing the Captain dead on the floor when he opened the door had just about stopped one of his own hearts.

Turning his attention back to Melissa, he carefully lifted her from the chair. She was so deeply asleep that her breathing did not even change as he carried her to the other side of the bed and placed her next to Jack. Not making a sound, he went to search out the rest of the family to tell them the good news.

Three days later, Jack was finally allowed to sit in the recliner in the den to spend a few hours being sociable. The Doctor had been quite adamant about the amount of rest the Captain needed, and was pleased to note that so far his friend had been a model patient. Melissa, on the other hand, was not taking orders very well at all, and still had obvious signs of exhaustion marring her usually beautiful face.

She hovered over her kids, who were tired of the overt concern. Even Susan was starting to snap at her when she asked how she was doing. She cooked enough food to feed twenty, and fussed when no one cleaned their heavily laden plates, while eating almost nothing herself. Each time Jack woke, she was by his side until he drifted back to sleep. Then, she was often watched him breathe as he slept for long periods. If she didn't quit soon, something was going to break, and it would most likely be her.

"So, what are you going to have for your first real meal, then?" Rose asked as she playfully ruffled Jack's hair. "The Doctor offered to take the TARDIS anywhere to get you whatever you want to eat."

"Not sure I trust the TARDIS to return, although I could sure go for some Calish stew right now." Teasing, Jack was secretly touched that the Doctor would make such a fuss over him.

Grabbing Melissa's hand, he added, "I hear there's a lot of leftovers to get rid of. Maybe I'll just have something from the fridge."

"No, if you want Calish stew, then I can make it," Melissa argued, taking a step away from him and wincing in pain as she spoke. "I can use elk steak for the wamble, and chicken for the orst, unless I can find alligator; still it all tastes close to chicken. Guess I'll have to use cilantro for the chyo spice. That should be close taste-wise, unless you really want the original version? Frankly, I find it somewhat bland, unless you prefer yours with agoyot chopped up on top? Don't really know an Earth equivalent for that, but then there's no stew that can't be made spicier with a little Tabasco sprinkled on it. Did you know that mini Tabasco bottles were included in World War II versions of MREs? They've been there since, although now they're just little plastic packets instead of bottles. At least they were at home; it gets confusing trying to remember history from that parallel place and here. It's like two merged timelines stuck in my head."

As Rose and Jack stared mutely at Melissa in growing concern, the Doctor came up behind her and tapped insistently on her shoulder. Startled, she jumped away from him and swayed slightly, although she remained upright. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" she asked in annoyance, and then realizing what she had said, looked at apologetically at Jack.

"Nope, just pointing out that I can pick up something for dinner without using the TARDIS. Drive a car quite well, in fact." He watched her carefully for signs of distress.

"Did you decide what you want to eat already?" Melissa asked Jack curiously. "I thought you were going to let me know if you wanted me to cook."

"I don't think I'm going to be able to eat much yet."

He had paled visibly as he watched Melissa ramble about a dish she could not possibly know how to prepare. Calish stew was from the planet Stygnil 4, and hadn't become popular off world until the late twenty-eighth century. She must have plucked the information from his mind, and it was only the Doctor's timely intervention that had kept her conscious. Thinking of what could have happened to her, his pulse began to race, and his exhaustion returned with a vengeance.

Seeing the effect Melissa's trip down memory lane had had on his friend, the Doctor added, "You need some protein after all the repairs made to your heart muscle, Captain." Locking eyes with him, he silently promised a private discussion of what had just occurred. "You've been up long enough, though. How about I tuck you back into bed and the three of us will worry about dinner. Alright with you?"

"Do I get a bedtime story?" Jack asked playfully, privately acknowledging the Doctor's message.

"Depends on how good you are."

"Ooh, I promise to be very, very good," he replied suggestively. "You don't mind if I go to bed, do you, Melissa?"

Seeing his drawn face, even if she did not understand the cause of it, Melissa readily agreed. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"But there's so little you won't do," he retorted, his blue eyes sparkling in mischief. He would say anything at that moment to keep her distracted.

Blushing furiously, she blurted out, "But you know that's not true!" Then, realizing her admission, she flushed and said ruefully, "Discretion is never going to be your strong suit is it?" As he grinned a no, she decided to make a hasty retreat to the kitchen where she could put her nervous energy to good use by chopping vegetables.

Rose shot a significant look at the Doctor and followed Melissa to the kitchen. If she couldn't get her friend to rest, she could at least make a pot of tea. It wasn't as good as chips, but it was better than nothing.

As the Doctor closed the door to Melissa and Jack's bedroom, the Captain remarked unnecessarily, "She did it again."

"I stopped her. You don't need to be worrying right now. She's fine. It didn't last more than a couple of minutes, and she didn't even lose consciousness."

The Doctor dropped gracefully onto the chair, stretching his legs casually in front of him. He hoped that his friend would take the hint and lie down for a while, but Jack was still agitated enough to pace around the room.

"She doesn't look fine. She looks like she's about to keel over," he snapped, still pacing.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black there, Captain. Now are you going to lie down before you fall down? I'm not keen on spending another two hours ripping open your chest and repairing your heart again, or dissolving another blood clot in your brain."

Chastised, Jack got into bed and propped himself up with a stack of pillows. "Better now?" he grinned tiredly.

Lips twitching in silent laughter, the Doctor commented, "Oh I don't know; think the whole effect's ruined by the Hello Kitty pillows."

Closing his eyes, Jack fought to stay awake. "Yeah, well, tell that to Susan. She thought I could use some extra support."

The Time Lord straightened in the chair, thinking about how lucky his friend was. "Those kids love you, you know, Captain."

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Jack merely nodded. "I'm still worried about her, Doc. Promise me you'll look out for her if I can't."

Not liking the turn in the conversation, he stood up and aimed his sonic screwdriver at his companion. Satisfied with the readings, he assured, "You'll be able to take care of her soon enough, but I promise. Just get some rest right now." As Jack nodded sleepily in reply, the Doctor quietly left the room.

Walking into the kitchen, he watched Melissa chop celery as he poured himself a cup of tea. Rose was cutting pungent onions and trying not to cry, but managed to turn her head towards him and give it a small shake as he raised an eyebrow at her in question.

Sitting down, he decided on a plan of action. "Melissa, do you think you could cook some salmon tonight? It's full of protein and Omega-III's and is easier to digest than beef."

"Sure," she answered, surprised the Doctor was asking. She would do anything to help Jack's recovery, and cooking salmon wasn't that difficult of a task.

"Fantastic. Do you know where to buy Pacific salmon? There's a little too much mercury in Atlantic salmon in this time period for my liking." He took a sip of tea and waited for her answer.

"I know Whole Foods usually has some, but it's on the other side of town."

He hoped his plan would work. "We'll go pick some up, that is, if you don't mind me driving your car."

"Not at all," she reassured him, "You're a much better driver than Jack."

"Thanks for that," he grinned. Grabbing the car keys, he asked, "Ready, Melissa?"

Surprised, she asked, "You want me to go with you? But I thought you and Rose would go?"

Rose answered as she washed and dried her hands. "I'm going to make Jack chips. The Doctor said his heart is fine; he just needs to get his strength back. Thought he might like some comfort food." Seeing Melissa's continued hesitation, she quickly added, "Why don't you go so you can pick out a dessert? I'm sure you know what he likes better than I do."

Reluctantly, Melissa let herself be persuaded to go to the grocery store. While she was in the den putting on her shoes, the Doctor grabbed Rose in a tight hug. "You really are the best, Rose. Thanks for playing along."

"No problem," she grinned happily. "Still don't know how you're going to get her to rest, though."

Looking highly pleased with himself, he bent down and whispered his plan to her. Trying to ignore the thrill her body felt as his hot breath caressed the delicate membrane of her ear, she turned abruptly towards him. Suddenly, she was staring into his bottomless blue eyes, the intensity of his gaze robbing her of speech. They stood there, frozen in the moment for several expectant seconds, until Melissa walked into the kitchen and broke the tension.

Flustered, Rose could barely stammer a goodbye as Melissa led the Doctor outside. Determined not to read too much into his expression, she resolutely began peeling potatoes, her thoughts still jumbled. By the time Susan and Matthew returned from school, she had convinced herself that she had misunderstood the Doctor's look.

Dinner was late that evening. Melissa fell asleep in the car on the way to the grocery store just as the Time Lord had planned, and he spent the next two and a half hours driving up and down the interstate. She might have slept longer, but he had failed to check the gas gauge before he began the trip, and eventually had to pull over to add fuel to the car. Luckily, she was in a much better mood when she woke. While an afternoon nap was not nearly long enough to replace all her lost sleep, it was a start.

Jack managed to sit through the entire dinner and a good hour's conversation before he started to flag. As Rose had said, his heart was fine now, but his body was weak and his stamina nonexistent. Still, it was quite an achievement for him to be sitting in the dining room with everyone else, eating his salmon and chips with relish just days after the damaged muscles in his heart had finally given out.

Dying had given him a new perspective on his life. As he listened later that night to Melissa's soft snoring, he came to a very important decision. He loved her, utterly. Oh, he had had many women, and a good number of men, who were better at sex, but he didn't mind. With him she was sweet and caring, and he was finding that there was a lot more to a relationship than just sex.

She was witty and brave and beautiful and optimistic, and at times her temper was a thing to behold. She accepted him as he was, never demanding to know his past, although he found himself sharing his story with her because he wanted her to understand. And she understood him better than he often did himself, perhaps due to her own suffering, or perhaps due to her compassionate empathy.

He had never loved anyone besides his mother, father and Gray. He liked many people, pretended to like many more, and had sex with all who were willing. That behavior had gotten him through the days and nights without him having to think about the loneliness. The Doctor and Rose had changed all that, and he loved them as well, although in a slightly different way, since they were seemingly unobtainable.

Eyes finally starting to close, Jack pulled Melissa closer and succumbed to sleep, his mouth curled into a soft smile.


	10. Assumptions

Author's Notes - A little short for me, but I've wondered if the long chapters are too long to hold people's interest. I'd really like to thank everyone who's reading and who has put this story on their alert list.

* * *

><p>"I need to talk to you, Doc." Jack finished his pushups, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off his face.<p>

Grabbing his own towel, the Doctor wiped his face, although he had not perspired nearly as much. "Sorry, Captain, knowing you, I should have told you a few days ago, but you're certainly healthy enough to engage in sexual activity again. I guess I shouldn't be surprised at how quickly your stamina has returned."

"Oh?" Jack hadn't planned on asking that question just yet; he thought the Time Lord would tell him when he was ready. It was only two weeks since he had technically died, and he had been putting so much effort into rebuilding muscle mass and strength that he had been going to bed much too tired to even think about sex.

The thought of making love to Melissa that night almost distracted him from his original topic of conversation, but after indulging in a few fantasies, he shook his head. "That actually wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently for his friend to begin. He should have known Jack had something else on his mind; the man hadn't so much as made one innuendo at his pronouncement.

"I was hoping you could explain twenty-first century marriage customs to me." He looked at the Doctor expectantly, an embarrassed smile on his face.

"Lots of different marriage customs on this planet in the twenty-first century. I take it you want me to explain the customs Melissa would be most familiar with?"

Flushing, Jack nodded. He wasn't going to make this easy, was he?

"With the caveat that she does come from a parallel world, and some things may be gingerbread, marriage in the United States is a legally binding contract that only ends with the death of a spouse, although there are legal ways to break such contract. Marriage is almost exclusively between a man and a woman, although that's slowly changing. Same sex marriages won't be legal in this country for another twenty-seven years. The Supreme Court hears this case that . . . ."

Jack interrupted, not really caring about tangents. "Doc, you want to skip the history lesson today?"

"Can do, sure." Getting back on track, he looked at Jack appraisingly. "Marriage is also monogamous during this time period, Captain."

"Yeah, I noticed that while watching TV. Seems to be more of an ideal than a reality, if all those celebrities are an indication." Jack thought he could live with monogamy; his parents and everyone else on the Peninsula had managed without complaining.

The Doctor folded his arms; trust Jack to pick up on the hypocrisy of the time from the television. "Melissa's not a celebrity and I wouldn't treat it as an option, if I were you." Noticing that the Captain was getting defensive, he added lightly, "Guess you won't be buying me that drink after all."

He laughed, his tension gone. "Oh, you never know; there's always the bachelor party. They do have bachelor parties now, don't they?"

"They do," he allowed with the smallest of grins, already wondering where he could take the Captain for his bachelor party that he already hadn't been. Jack was actually going to settle down, and he couldn't have been happier for his companion, even if it meant losing his company. Perhaps Melissa would consent to traveling once her children were grown.

He thought Jack had finished his questions, but suddenly his friend was nervous again, actually pacing a little, which was not a good sign. "I need to ask you one more thing, Doc. I thought of asking Matthew since he's Melissa's blood kin, but I decided in the end that he's too young."

"Well, go on then," the Doctor encouraged.

"Will you stand beside me?"

Automatically, he responded, "Be honored to, Captain." Then he paused. "You grew up on Boeshane, yeah? Mind telling me just what standing beside you during the ceremony denotes in your culture?"

"It's mostly symbolic, although it does mean you approve of the match and agree to look out for her if anything happens to me." His companion was acting very casual, but the Doctor sensed instantly that he was anything but.

"Already agreed to that when you were recovering, didn't I?" Then, noticing that his friend was still tense, he added with a hint of worry, "Not pushing yourself too fast trying to get your strength back? You should let me know if you feel too tired. Can run a few more tests."

"I'm fine, Doc; I was just waiting for your answer."

Jack stood in front of him with the most vulnerable, unguarded look the Doctor had ever seen on his face, and it was all he could do not to crush him in an exuberant, emotional hug. It's what his Eighth self would have done, but he was a far different man. Instead, he gave Jack a goofy grin.

"You hard of hearing now? Said I'd be honored to stand beside you."

Seeing that the Captain might just kiss him, he continued nonchalantly, "I wouldn't plan the bachelor party though until you ask her and she says yes."

"Yeah, about that. I was thinking . . . ."

Melissa Morgan became Melissa Harkness on October 24, 2005, during a very private ceremony on board the TARDIS. The ship had outdone herself, rejuvenating the cloisters until it resembled an open air cathedral, complete with stained glass windows. The bride wore a pale green suit and the groom a World War II RAF uniform. The Doctor stood beside Jack and Rose beside Melissa, witnessing the vows the couple made to each other, along with Susan and Matthew, who were the only other guests.

"Doctor, today was beautiful," Rose gushed as they sat together on the sofa in Melissa's den. The newlyweds were off to Paris for a week, and the Doctor and Rose were babysitting, an easy task when your charges were fifteen.

"It was that," he agreed softly, remembering how beautiful she had looked in the simple pink bridesmaid dress she had worn during the ceremony.

"I honestly never thought I'd see Jack settle down, or say the words 'forsaking all others'." She smiled mischievously, her tongue poking out between her teeth.

"The universe can be strange," he concurred with a huge grin. "So, Rose Tyler, just you and me again, unless you plan on picking up any more strays?"

"Nah," she grinned back, enjoying their banter, "Too much trouble. 'Sides, I'm looking forward to having you to myself for a while."

"Fantastic!"

He turned towards her intending to make a comment about the wedding cake, when it felt like both his hearts stopped. She had turned to him at the same time, and now his mouth was just inches from hers. He could sense her sudden desire, which he reciprocated fully. Almost hesitantly, he brought his hand up to her cheek, touching her face ever so lightly as he bent closer to her parted lips.

A large metallic crash interrupted him before he could even brush his lips against her skin. "The shower curtain rod's fallen down!" Susan yelled loudly as she turned off the water. "Rose, think you could give me a hand? I've got soap in my eyes!"

Blinking several times as if she needed to clear her head, Rose smiled sheepishly at the Doctor. "Be there in a mo'!"

Then she ran out of the den, wondering not for the first time if the universe had an evil sense of humor.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa woke lazily as the sunlight streamed into the hotel room from a tiny crack in the draperies. They had been in Paris for two days and had only seen the Eiffel Tower, and that was from the window. Although, she found she didn't much care. As long as she was with Jack, the room was more than fine.

He had other plans, however. After a passionate kiss, he flung the duvet off her body. "Rise and shine, Mrs. Harkness. Today I'm going to show you the wonders of Paris."

"The view of the Eiffel Tower is very nice from the window. Do we really need to go out?" She did her best to persuade him that her idea was the better one.

Chuckling, he finally disentangled himself from her. "Yes, we do. You've never been to Paris, remember? Besides, I hear housekeeping has a wager on when we finally leave the room, and I want to see who won."

When she still didn't move, he whispered in her ear all the things he would do to her that evening. Hurriedly, she ran to the bathroom to take a shower. Suddenly, a day of sightseeing seemed like a very good idea. Shaving, he watched her in the mirror as she hurried to get dressed. He still couldn't believe his luck; she was unbelievable, and all his.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa gazed at yet another portrait of the Madonna and Child, and something in her heart lurched. She stood there, silently, just staring at it, a tense expression on her face, until Jack became concerned.

"You alright, Sweetheart?" Thinking she might be getting a migraine, he gently led her to one of the benches and sat with her, but except for a pensive expression on her face, she seemed fine.

She didn't answer his question. Instead, she quietly posed a question of her own. "Are you disappointed I can't give you children?"

Oh. He hadn't expected that one. They hadn't ever discussed having kids, since he knew from that first time they made love that she was unable. His mind flashed briefly to their first night together, when he had hastily started unwrapping a condom, only to have her explain flatly that she had had a hysterectomy, and it wouldn't be necessary if all he was worried about was preventing pregnancy.

He remembered the awkward conservation the next day when he had been stupid enough to ask why she had wanted her uterus removed. It seemed a very radical approach to birth control. When she had stiffly explained that it had been done after the twins' birth to save her life, he had finally understood just how primitive and barbaric the twentieth century had been.

Looking around the gallery, he noticed that they were mercifully alone. Putting his arms around her, he answered as best he could. "I haven't given it any thought, actually. Never dreamed of settling down; never dreamed of living this long. The Time Agency isn't known for its retirement plan."

Seeing that she wasn't satisfied with his answer, he added, "How could I be disappointed? You gave me two magnificent children already. Now, let's go get some lunch. I think you've seen enough Renaissance paintings today."

His response must have satisfied her, because as they exited the Louvre, she began to chat happily about a few of the bistros and cafes they had seen while walking the city. He smiled and debated the pros and cons of the various restaurants, keeping his new feelings hidden. Captain Jack Harkness, ex Time Agent, ex conman, ex companion to the Doctor, new husband, would have given anything just then to have a child with her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa dozed against the door as the cab stopped at her house and Jack paid the fare. Their plane had been delayed by thunderstorms in Atlanta, and it was two in the morning. Leaving the suitcases on the sidewalk, he gently woke her and helped her to the house. Neither expected anyone to be up at that hour, although it looked like someone had thoughtfully left the lights on in the den. At least they wouldn't have to walk into the dark.

Putting the key in the lock, they were both startled when the Doctor opened the door. By way of greeting he held up a white plastic box with a green cross, asking irritably, "Either one of you care to explain what this is doing in your house?"

Jet-lagged, Jack took one look at the Time Lord and snapped sarcastically. "And hello to you, too. How was your trip? Not bad, actually it was wonderful, but we're a little tired from the delay in Atlanta. Anything I can do? Sure, getting the bags inside while I help Melissa to the sofa would be nice; I think she's asleep standing." His monologue ended, Jack glared at the Doctor.

His rant had the desired effect. The Doctor carefully put the box down in the den and then jogged outside to retrieve the bags. He even fixed tea for the three of them, although he ignored the Captain's suggestion that Melissa go to bed.

Once they were settled comfortably on the sofa, however, he asked his original question. "So, what the hell is this, Captain?"

Opening the kit and taking a look at the contents, Jack gave his opinion. "Looks like a medical kit, at least forty-ninth century. And it's got a few nasty surprises inside. There's a whole slew of mercenary enhancement patches on one side. Other than that, I have no idea."

"How did it get here, then?" He was livid. It was one thing for a man from the fifty-first century to decide to spend his days in the twenty-first, but it was irresponsible for that man to take anachronistic technology with him, not that the Doctor understood what Jack wanted with some of this stuff in the first place; most of it was extremely dangerous.

Melissa looked between Jack and the Doctor in confusion. Both men looked like they were agitated and angry, and she couldn't understand why Jack was lying. Finally, she had had enough.

"That's it. I'm tired, and I can't take you two glowering at each other any longer. Jack, I don't know why you said you didn't recognize that box. It's the one that doctor left behind when he treated you at the school. You even took one of those patches and stuck it on your chest so you could make it to the car, remember? And Doctor, I don't know why you're so upset about it, but you can have it for all I care. Now, can I go to bed?"

Both men stared at her, dumb-founded, although Jack was the first one who managed to speak. "Melissa, I promise you, I don't remember that box or anything you just said. I honestly don't remember much about the school, and I'm suddenly getting a bad feeling about this."

"You're not the only one, Captain," the Doctor agreed somberly. "Melissa, I need you to tell me everything you know about this person who helped Jack."

"Matthew is the one who could tell you best, because I was unconscious most of the time, but I'll tell you what I remember and what he told me."

Suddenly, tears welled in her eyes as she recalled the hopelessness she had felt watching Jack slip into unconsciousness in that dark hallway. "Jack, the Parflican had thrown you up against the lockers and had his hand pressed against your chest when I found you." Pausing, she admitted guiltily, "And then I killed it with a baseball bat."

Her husband's eyes widened in surprise, while the Doctor was able to better hide his astonishment. He had never heard of anyone taking down a Parflican with anything as primitive as a baseball bat; it reminded him of one of Ace's more spectacular triumphs. Watching her unwillingly relive those memories, he prodded softly, "And the man with the case?"

"The doctor showed up a few minutes later. He startled me, and I grabbed the sonic blaster. Only, that's when I passed out, and I don't remember anything else until Jack was waking me up and telling me we had to leave. The rest of the story is what Matthew's told me."

The Doctor gestured for her to continue as Jack took her hand for support. "The guy scanned us, and stitched your head, then wrapped your ribs, which were broken. He also told Matthew you had a head injury. This doctor called you by name and seemed really upset when you didn't recognize him."

Looking nervously at her husband, she added, "Matthew said you seemed scared, and the guy promised he was a friend of yours and that he wouldn't hurt you or us."

Trying to remember Matthew's story, she paused and sipped her tea. "He asked you how many of the aliens had you killed, and then he mentioned some you had killed in other parts of the school. He heard a noise and ran out to chase down the last Parflican, and told you to stay there. That's when Matthew said you started going through that kit and took out a square piece of purple plastic and stuck it on your chest. Whatever was in there worked awfully fast because you woke me up and ran to the car. You collapsed within sight of the car; your heart was racing and you were having trouble breathing. I ripped that thing off of you and put it on my hand. Whatever it was, it was powerful. I easily picked you up and put you in the backseat. Problem was, as soon as I took it off, I felt so weak I could barely move; it was like I had just run a marathon. Susan had to drive us home. We didn't see the man from the school again."

As she finished her tale, the Doctor and Jack shared troubled glances. Coming to an unspoken agreement, Jack pulled Melissa up and led her to the bedroom, reappearing alone twenty minutes later. Dejectedly, he sat on the sofa, momentarily resting his head in his hands. Finally looking at the Doctor, he confessed, "This is bad."

"Got any idea who it might be?" The Doctor didn't bother to acknowledge Jack's statement; he could make the connections as well as the Captain.

"Not a clue. Maybe if Matthew can give me a description, but I didn't want to press Melissa tonight. She's beyond exhausted." He leaned back, thinking. "He didn't show up at the house."

"Doesn't mean someone else won't, not if they know where you are." The 'they' in question was the Time Agency. Both he and Jack knew they would pay dearly to capture him. No matter what he had said about the Agency letting him go, the organization was not one to be lenient towards former agents who betrayed them.

"My alias is from after the Agency. I didn't pick up Jack Harkness' name until just before that con I ran during World War II. They can't know where I am."

"You must have been desperate, lad, if you put one of those patches on your chest. At least we know what caused the heart damage."

"She had that drug in her system, too, Doc. What did it do to her?" Suddenly angry and panicky, he stood abruptly, kicking the sofa in frustration.

Standing up, the Doctor put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "Go to bed. Nothing's going to happen tonight. I'll run some tests on her in the infirmary, but I don't think she had enough to cause permanent damage." When his friend looked as if he might protest, the Doctor added, "That's an order, Captain."

Wearily, Jack joined Melissa in the bedroom, but sleep didn't come to him that night.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Can you remember anything else, Matt? Anything that might help me identify this guy?" Jack was trying to hide his disappointment. Matthew's description of the man at the school had been vague at best. All Jack knew was that this doctor, if he was one, was shorter than he, had narrow lips, a British sounding accent and a foul mouth.

"No, he was wearing normal looking clothes. His gun looked strange; it was short, but the barrel was big and round. It didn't look like anything I'd seen before. His last name was Harper, I think, and he asked if you knew someone named Suzie, but that's all I can remember." Matt looked apologetically at Jack, knowing he hadn't answered to the Captain's satisfaction.

"Thanks for your help. I still don't recognize the guy, but I've got a better idea of who he might work for." Jack gave him a grateful smile as he masked his growing fear. Needing something to do, he left Matthew's room and went outside to tinker with the car.

"Hope you know how to put all that back." The Doctor looked at the parts scattering the driveway in amusement. Jack had managed to strip apart the fuel injection system and was trying to improve its efficiency.

"How is she?" Hastily, he started to put everything back together. He wanted the Doctor's advice, although he already knew in his heart what he needed to do.

"Her heart muscle's fine. She's worried, though. She went with Susan and Rose to pick up some lunch. Since they had to walk, they may be gone an hour or so." Without being asked, he started handing Jack pieces to the fuel injection system. "Find anything out from the boy?"

"Maybe. He expected me to know certain people. Since I don't recognize the names, I think it has something to do with my missing two years. It can only be the Time Agency." Tightening a bolt, he waited to hear what the Doctor would say.

"Would they use civilians as leverage?" the Doctor finally asked.

"If I'm around, hell yes. But they're too professional to take hostages unless they know their worth." Slotting the last piece into place, Jack dropped the hood of the car to stand in front of the Doctor.

Gravely, his friend remarked, "Then you've got a difficult decision to make, Captain." But they both knew it was no decision at all.

Two days later, Jack joined the Doctor and Rose on the TARDIS. It was not a happy parting. Melissa and the kids had understood his rationale, but it didn't mean that anyone had to like it. As the blue box faded from existence, she shut herself in her room and cried herself to sleep. Even with his promises to return, she knew she had lost another husband, and it hurt like hell.


	11. Rude and Not Ginger

Author's Notes - This chapter is the shortest one in The Emissary, and I don't think I could cut it much without making it incomprehensible, so here it is. Also, I feel compelled to confess that I've had several people tell me these beginning chapters are not as strong as the later ones, and I wholeheartedly agree. This is the first story of any kind that I had written in many years, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I wrote chapters that paralleled the series until I gained enough confidence to go my own way. When posting it here on FF, I had the choice to post it mostly as is, or to try to revamp it so that the earlier chapters reflected the quality of the later ones. I've decided to keep it true to the original, altering it only to meet the T rating. I don't know if this is an apology for the weakness of the first part of the fic, or a plea to stick it out until it gets better. Either way, I hope you enjoy it, and I will warn you that by the time the watch is opened, you'll want to bash the characters' heads together and tell them to get a clue!

* * *

><p>Two loud, insistent knocks interrupted Melissa's computer work. Yanking open the front door, she paused in confusion as she peered at the stranger before her. Rubbing her forehead, she took in the man's appearance with a quick glance. "You're still not ginger, you know, although the ears are a significant improvement."<p>

"Oi! My ears weren't that bad!" Then realizing the impossibility of what she had said, he became puzzled. "How could you possibly know it was me?"

"Where's Jack?" She didn't mean to sound brusque, but her head was starting to pound.

The new, younger-looking Doctor instantly looked regretful and sympathetic. Unwillingly, she suddenly knew the purpose of his visit. Stiffening, she told him, "You know, the Air Force sends two people to do a casualty notification. Where's Rose?"

He blinked and opened his mouth as he thought of several different responses. Seeing he was still standing outside, however, he opted for, "May I come in?"

"They ask that too," she remarked bitterly. For a moment, she debated the idea of refusing, but in the end, her desire to know what had happened trumped her desire for self-deception. Feeling strangely detached, she invited him in.

"Why don't I make you some tea," he offered, leading her gently to the kitchen table. She remained silent, staring at her hands as he heated the water and then prepared two cups. Worried, he studied her as he poured the tea, but she scarcely noticed.

"Melissa, I'm so sorry," he told her sincerely, crouching down to her eye level, but her eyes would not meet his and her hands stayed in her lap. "Right then," he muttered to himself. Placing a large mug of hot tea on the table in front of her, he wondered how close she was to shock.

Patiently, he sat in silence until the tea had gone tepid. Finally, she asked in a hoarse whisper, "Was it the Time Agency?"

"No. It was something else." Trying to decide how best to tell her, he eventually asked, "Did Rose ever tell you what a Dalek is?"

Her head shot up and she glared into his eyes, her hatred so intense that it astonished even him. "I know what a Dalek is." Harshly, she rubbed her forehead.

He found himself looking away from her. He could not bear to have that hatred turned towards him as he told his tale. "We found the Daleks very far into the Earth's future. Hundreds of thousands of Daleks, waiting to attack the Earth. We were on a satellite, and I designed a weapon, a delta wave, that could kill them all, except I needed some time to build it. I sent Rose home in the TARDIS, but Jack stayed to mount a defense. He was the last man standing. I heard him run out of ammunition, and then the Daleks. . . ."

He couldn't bring himself to say the word exterminate, the memory of Jack's death was too fresh in his mind. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he finished quietly, "He died a hero, Melissa."

His touch was like fire, and electrified, she pushed back the chair giving him a hard slap on the face. Her mind blazed as the Bad Wolf revealed everything that had occurred.

"You liar. Oh, you've told me the truth, I'll grant you that, but you're trying to deceive me nonetheless. Forgot to mention that Rose decided to play god and bring Jack back to life, did you? Or were you going to tell me about the Bad Wolf at all? You can't hide her from me; I've know her since I was a child. Who do you think brought me here? If not for her, I'd be trapped inside the Void!"

Flinging her mug to the ground, she watched it shatter into tiny shards. "I hate her! Hate what's she's done to me! Hate what she did to Jack! Never-ending suffering! He'll die, and die and die again! And I never, ever thought I'd live to see the day I called you coward, but you left him! You left a man who died for you alone on a satellite full of Dalek dust and dead humans. You left him ignorant about himself! What's going to happen when he dies again? How could you? You're better than that!

Dumbfounded, the Doctor stared at her in mute horror, rubbing his stinging cheek. As she continued her rant, he finally saw how tightly her right hand grasped her head. He grabbed her by the shoulder, and with a pained sob, she collapsed unconscious to the floor.

Cursing himself for being so thick, he whipped out the sonic screwdriver to scan her brain. Her neural activity was much too high. When she didn't stir after several minutes, he carefully carried her to the sofa. Trying not to dwell on the guilty accusations she must have extrapolated from his own mind, he returned to the kitchen to clean up the glass and make a fresh pot of tea.

When he returned, she was sitting up, a look of confusion on her face. The confusion changed to fear as soon as she noticed him. Bolting from the sofa, she grabbed the fireplace poker and brandished it at him. "Get out of my house! I don't care who you are, get out of my house!"

Assuming an affable smile, the Doctor kept his hands out in front of him to show her they were empty. "Blimey, Melissa, I know I look different, but that's no reason to stab me with a poker. Now, I've made some tea, so why don't we go into the kitchen?"

She didn't move an inch, not that he had actually expected her to. More earnestly, he added, "Melissa, it's me, the Doctor. I know, new personality, new face, new clothes, but I promise it's me. You had a migraine, why don't we go into the kitchen, eh? I made us both some tea."

She eyed the man uncertainly. "Where's Rose?"

"At home with Jackie. Christmas was a little hectic what with the Sycorax, so we thought we'd stay through New Year's." He kept his hands out, but he gave her a reassuring grin.

She pondered his explanation, wishing Rose had been with him to explain. She hadn't changed her face, had she? "Where's Jack?" The poker was pointed at the ground, but it was still gripped tightly in her hand.

"Not here, either," the Doctor admitted quietly.

That raised her suspicions; surely Jack wouldn't miss a chance to visit. The poker again pointed at his chest. "Tell me something only the Doctor would know."

Thinking for a moment, he answered flatly, "Jack told me that you've only had intercourse with Mark and him."

Outrage superseded her suspicions and she shrieked at him. "Why on Earth would he tell you that?"

Looking momentarily embarrassed, he ran his hand through his hair. "We were discussing cultural definitions of sexual morality. Perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say. I think I'm slightly rude this time. I could have said the fire that killed your parents wasn't your fault, or you make the best banana muffins with cream cheese on the planet, but I wasn't entirely sure what type of secret you were looking for."

All at once, her outrage was replaced by astonishment, and the poker clattered to the floor. "Doctor? What happened to you?"

Shrugging, he replied, "I died."

She blurted out, "Is that like the Dali Lama and reincarnation?"

Pleased that she had accepted him so readily, he enthused, "You're brilliant! Completely wrong, of course, but absolutely brilliant. I regenerated. It's this little trick Time Lords have to cheat death. Every cell of my body changes, and I become a new man, new looks, new voice, new quirks. Everything on the outside changes, but on the inside, I'm still me."

Actually following his rambling, she suddenly understood that something terrible must have happened to make him change. "Where's Jack?"

Blimey, but he hated explaining twice. At least this time he would do it properly. "Why don't you sit down and I'll bring you a cup of tea and we'll talk about it, eh?"

Ashen, she sat heavily onto the sofa. Sitting beside her, he made her take a few sips of the hot, strong tea before he started to speak. "How are you feeling?" he began, scanning her with his screwdriver.

"Tired. Afraid. Jack would be here if you had good news."

"I'm sorry," he told her sincerely, wondering what her reaction would be this time.

"Just get it over with," she pleaded as she took another sip of tea.

"He's not dead, Melissa." He didn't want her to delve in his mind again, and not knowing what triggered her ability, he decided to be completely honest.

"Is he a prisoner?" Her hands were trembling slightly, but otherwise she seemed to be taking the news well.

"No, it's complicated. We were far into Earth's future where we found millions of Daleks preparing to attack the planet and take over the rest of the galaxy. Jack . . . Jack was very brave. He led the defense of the satellite so I could have time to build a weapon to defeat them. The Daleks attacked, though, and killed everyone on the satellite but me.

"I thought you said he was alive!" With his quick reflexes he caught her mug as it slipped out of her hand, spilling only a little.

He searched her face looking for signs that she once again walked in his memories. She seemed fine, however, although understandably tense and shaken. Putting the mug on the end table, he leaned forward and gave her a soft, sympathetic smile. "I said it's complicated. I sent Rose home in the TARDIS. I wanted her to be safe."

His expression became somewhat bitter as he continued. "But she's never been very good at accepting the inevitable. She managed to open the heart of the TARDIS and absorb the power of the Time Vortex." Her face was full of questions, and he gravely explained, "She had the power to do anything. She turned the Daleks into dust."

When he hesitated, she prodded, "And Jack?"

"She said 'I bring life' and she brought him back, but she's human, and couldn't control the power she wielded. She brought him back forever."

When it was apparent she didn't understand, he added quietly, "He can be killed, but he can't die, not permanently. He's going to live forever."

A strangled sob escaped her as she comprehended what he just said. "Where is he?"

"I left him on the satellite," the Doctor confessed. "What Rose did changed him in many ways. He's a fixed point in time, and I can sense that. It makes me very uncomfortable. He looks wrong to me, and it wasn't the best time for me to try to sort it out."

He saw the look of betrayal on her face, and he apologized. "I wasn't making the best decisions then, but what's done is done. He's got his Vortex Manipulator. I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Can Rose fix him?" She couldn't believe the Doctor had just left Jack! How scared would he be when he died and came back?

"No," he answered regretfully, "She doesn't even remember. The Time Vortex is much too powerful for anyone, especially a human to hold. I had to take it out of her."

"How?"

He looked uncomfortable, and she wasn't sure he would answer, but finally, he did. "By taking it into me. I was able to channel it through my body so the energy could return to the TARDIS."

Insightful, she commented with a hint of amazement in her voice, "That's how you died."

He gave an embarrassed half-shrug. "Yeah."

"You were dying when you left Jack." The silence stretched between them until Melissa dared to ask the question she was afraid to ask. "Would he look wrong to me?"

"No, but he probably won't age."

She nodded; she could live with that. Gathering her courage, she spoke as calmly as she could, although her voice quavered a bit. "Could you stand being around him long enough to bring him here?"

For a long minute, he forgot to breathe. Is this why he had come alone, sneaking off without telling Rose in the first place? Had he dared hope she would accept Jack, offering him the support and love he would need as he slowly came to terms with his new existence?

"I can. Now that I'm not about to regenerate, it will be easier to be around him. But you need to be absolutely sure because if I do this, then there will be no more visits from Rose and me, no one to turn to if it goes wrong."

Her pale cheeks flushed with conviction. "He's Jack! He doesn't deserve this, and I understand your need to protect Rose, but I love him. And you're better than this. You can't just abandon him! I won't pretend that it's going to be easy, but he needs a safe place to understand what's happened to him and to learn to live with it, and that's here."

"You'll get old, and he won't," he warned, wanting to make sure she understood absolutely."

"Then he can leave me when I get too wrinkled for him." As she made her retort, a ghost of a smile flitted across her face.

Her resiliency amazed him. "Have I ever mentioned that you are an incredible woman, Melissa Morgan? The Captain is a very lucky man." Grabbing his coat, he strode to the front door. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

The Doctor returned fifteen minutes later, haggard, upset and alone. "The TARDIS wouldn't let me land any sooner than six months after the attack. I tried. I promise; I've been trying for two weeks, but she's being obstinate. When I searched, he had already left. I have no way of finding him now. I'm sorry."

He looked so dejected that she couldn't do anything but believe him and give him a tight hug. "It's not me you'll have to apologize to."

Finally taking pity on him, she added cordially, "There's some hummingbird cake with your name on it. Why don't you come in and take a break. Wouldn't want Rose to see you like this; she might ask questions. There's no sense upsetting her if she doesn't remember."

Grateful, he went inside, letting her fix the tea this time.


	12. Three for Lunch

The doorbell rang as Melissa was loading a pile of her son's dirty clothes into the washer. Honestly, if Matthew didn't start picking up after himself, she was going to let his clothes collect on the bathroom floor until he ran out of clean ones. Not looking forward to finding that nutcase Major Marshall at her door yet again, she set the washer to run before slowly making her way upstairs. By then, the bell was ringing furiously.

"Coming!" Jogging the last few steps, she yanked open the door, ready to give someone a piece of her mind. Only, her mouth gaped in surprise as she saw Rose and the Doctor's smiling faces.

"Blimey, you took your time," the Doctor remarked good-naturedly as Rose wrapped her in a happy hug.

"It's good to see you," Rose gushed. "It's been ages! Don't mind three for lunch, do you?"

"Three?" Melissa's face lit up in an ecstatic smile. "Why didn't you tell me?" Pushing past them, she ran out the door and down the path.

Stricken, Rose turned to the Doctor. "You don't think?"

"Yeah, I do," he answered resignedly. "Stay here. I'll go." Sprinting, he took off after her.

Overjoyed, Melissa knocked insistently on the TARDIS. After a moment, an affable, dark-skinned young man opened the door. "Yeah, can I help you?"

For a moment, she peered intently behind him, about to ask where Jack was hiding, but understanding suddenly, she tried to hide her disappointment. "Hi, I'm Melissa Morgan," she began with a weak smile pasted on her face. "Rose and the Doctor mentioned they were travelling with someone, and I just wanted to invite you to the house. It's just along the path. I'm sorry; they didn't mention your name?"

"They wouldn't," he muttered knowingly before answering. "It's Mickey Smith."

"Oh, Mr. Smith, it's so nice to finally meet you." She swallowed the tight knot in her throat and tried to focus on the man in front of her. "Rose and the Doctor have told me and my kids all about the Slitheen. You're quite the hero in our household. Matthew and Susan will be pleased to meet you."

"Thanks, and you can just call me Mickey." He was surprised and gratified that he had been mentioned at all, much less as a hero. "I was just finished inside. We can walk back together, if you want."

Knowing she was about to cry, she quickly declined. "I think I'll stay a few minutes and catch my breath. You go on ahead. Tell them that there are some banana muffins in the kitchen. You're welcome to them."

"Sure thing," Mickey agreed amiably, walking away from her to follow the path.

Once he was out of sight, Melissa rested her head against the ship and sobbed uncontrollably. The Doctor arrived unnoticed just as she gave into her disappointment. Walking slowly to her, he placed his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry. Rose didn't think."

Turning, she cried against him as he gave her a hug. "I'm such a stupid ape. I knew you hadn't found him when you went back, but I still got my hopes up."

"Hope's never a bad thing."

The Doctor patted her back as he reassured her, wishing Rose would think more often before speaking. Her impulsiveness had gotten them in trouble on more than one occasion, not that he was blameless by any means. This time, however, he wished they had been more careful. It pained him to see her so miserable.

"Sorry," she sniffled, embarrassed at getting emotional in front of him. "It's the not knowing that's the worst." Pulling herself together, she gave him a teary smile. "The TARDIS must know when I'm baking. There are banana muffins in the kitchen. How about we go get some?"

"Would they happen to have cream cheese icing on the top?" If she could make the effort to be cheerful, then so could he.

"Only way I make them," she assured him as they strolled up the hill.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Do you mean to tell me she's actually married to Captain Flash?"

Mickey choked on a muffin as Rose filled him in on Melissa's history. She had been as surprised as he when the TARDIS had landed in the aspen grove in Colorado. She hadn't thought the Doctor would be interested in visiting the Morgan family on his own, and she had been too busy to think about Melissa and her kids in quite a while. Unheard by either one of them, Melissa and the Doctor quietly entered the house. Without intending to, they both got an earful.

"Oi! Jack's not all bad. He settled down a lot after he married her, actually. Was almost a grouch on the TARDIS after he decided to leave. Don't know why the Doctor put up with his moping for so long before having a talk with him. Anyway, he's in the future somewhere helping out after the Daleks almost destroyed the Earth."

"Must not miss her very much, then," Mickey commented dryly.

"Guess not," Rose agreed thoughtlessly. "Surprised the Doctor came here on his own, though. He doesn't usually visit people in his past. Maybe Sarah Jane—"

Rose abruptly stopped speaking when Melissa opened the front door again and slammed it shut. She really didn't want to overhear any more. She guessed from her comments that the young woman had not remembered what she had done to Jack as the Bad Wolf.

The Doctor looked uncomfortably at Melissa before they walked into the kitchen. He didn't want to upset her again. Leaning close to her ear, he quietly made a promise. "As long as you want me, I'll visit from time to time. It's the least I can do after standing with Jack at your wedding. I owe it to both of you."

Using his role in their wedding gave him a convenient excuse to visit, and he was happy use it to his advantage. He had other motives for keeping in contact with the courageous woman from a parallel universe. If his suspicions were correct, then it was only a matter of time before she overtaxed her brain to the point of permanent injury, and her children would need assistance dealing with the aftereffects.

Of course, there was that nagging reference to the Bad Wolf as well. He couldn't begin to speculate on what she had meant when she had told him that the Bad Wolf had known her since she was a child. True, Rose had wielded infinite power in the brief time when she was basically a goddess, but interfering in Melissa's life on that scale shattered temporal cause and effect. What had Rose done? And why? Knowing idle speculation was fruitless, he looked down at her and smiled encouragingly.

Silently, she squeezed his hand in appreciation of his offer as they entered the kitchen, smiles plastered on both their faces. After a banana muffin snack, they decided to go out for lunch. On a whim, Melissa picked up Susan and Matthew from school to let them get an early start on the weekend.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Camping! That's a brilliant idea!" His hamburger momentarily forgotten, the Doctor enthusiastically endorsed Matthew's suggestion that they spend the weekend camping in Rocky Mountain National Park. Although it was late April, the weather forecast was promising temperatures above freezing.

Mickey groaned, outvoted again. "I hate camping." But, no one was paying much attention to him.

Rose slurped on her strawberry milkshake, giving the Doctor a huge smile. Camping sounded like fun if they were going to spend the whole weekend in Colorado. Maybe they could see a bear in the wild. Their plans decided, she began to talk excitedly about packing for the trip.

In the end, they took the TARDIS to Rocky Mountain National Park, materializing at a campsite off the beaten path. After quickly pitching two large tents, they decided to take advantage of the warm sunshine by breaking into groups of two and exploring the various paths. Melissa found herself leading Mickey Smith to one of the more spectacular waterfalls in the park.

"Guess camping's not all bad." Mickey was very impressed with the waterfall. He hadn't gotten off the Estate much as a child, and nature still intimidated him somewhat, even after travelling for a few weeks with the Doctor and Rose. Of course, they tended to end up on spaceships or in cities; so he still didn't have that much exposure to the great outdoors.

"Camping's great. When I was little, I used to sneak out sometimes and sleep under the stars." She laughed to herself, remembering one particular time that she had returned completely covered in mosquito bites. "Of course, I got punished for sneaking out, but it was usually worth it."

Mickey looked at her thoughtfully, wondering how to satisfy his curiosity without seeming rude. In the end, he decided just to ask. "So, Rose said you came from a parallel world. What's it like?"

Stopping for a few minutes to take a water break, she answered, "It's different. There's not as much war here. The U.S. doesn't seem to be quite as important, which, frankly, I don't mind. But it's the similarities that are the worst. I see people sometimes; people I knew when Mark, the kids and I were stationed in Colorado Springs, and they don't know me now. But, I keep expecting them to react the same way, or expect them to say hi. Those are the times when I really feel like I don't belong."

Mickey didn't reply, although he thought he understood her answer. He definitely knew what not belonging felt like. He was beginning to regret travelling with the Doctor and Rose, not that the adventures weren't fun, but he didn't belong, not with them, at least. The Doctor and Rose didn't need anyone tagging along for them to be complete.

Wanting to change the subject, he commented without thinking. "Rose said you married that Captain Flash. I can't imagine anyone settling down with that man; he's just too cheesy."

Startled, she choked on a sip of water. Letting her temper get the best of her, she let him know exactly what she thought. "Let me tell you something, Mickey Smith; Jack's a hero. He's saved all our lives, and he left us only to protect us. He might act cheesy, but when it comes down to it, he's braver than any man I've ever met. You'd do well to emulate him rather than making fun of him."

Chagrinned, he responded defensively. "I didn't mean nothing by it. Just surprised he settled down. When I met him in Cardiff, he didn't seem like the type."

Getting her emotions under control, she graciously accepted the awkward apology. "Jack'll flirt with anything that moves; that's for sure. Believe me; I was just as surprised as anyone else when he asked if he could stay. Now, come on; we want to make it back before dark."

They were the first to arrive back at the camp. Lighting the fire, she tried not to worry about Susan and Matthew. It was late in the afternoon, and the pink sunset was giving way to darkness before her children returned, arguing loudly about the best way to cook marshmallows. Susan insisted that catching them on fire ruined the flavor, while Matthew countered that flaming marshmallows were a necessity.

"Both of you are loud enough to scare away the bears." She had meant it as a reprimand, but considering where they were, decided that their noise wasn't a bad thing. "What I meant was, if you two are going to constantly bicker, you can spend the night in the TARDIS with no s'mores at all."

"Yes, ma'am." Matthew gave her a teasing salute, smiling all the while. "I promise not to argue with Susan about her undercooked marshmallows again."

"Hey!" Susan swatted her brother with her baseball cap. Then, she schooled her features into a more serious expression and tried to reassure her mother. "And I promise not to argue with Matt about his ruining perfectly good marshmallows by catching them on fire." Her somber apology was somewhat ruined when she stuck her tongue out at her brother.

Melissa rolled her eyes, deciding to ignore both of her children for a time to concentrate on cooking the stew. She didn't hear them regale Mickey with tales of bear sightings and mountain lion attacks, so she didn't understand why the young man jumped nervously as Rose and the Doctor crashed into firelight, laughing at a private joke between the two of them.

"That stew smells wonderful." The Doctor took an appreciative sniff as he lit several lanterns to place around the campsite. "I don't suppose you need a taster?"

"Hand's off." Warning him flippantly, she pointed the wooden spoon at him. "You and Rose can find the graham crackers, chocolate and marshmallows in the TARDIS. When you get back, the stew should be ready to dish up. So, no tastes before then, Doctor."

"No tastes? Where's the fun in that?" He grumbled playfully as he led Rose into the TARDIS to find the makings for dessert.

He hadn't eaten roasted marshmallows since the night Melissa had grilled steaks for all of them. Jack had decided the coals were too hot to waste and had come out of the house with long kebob skewers and a bag of marshmallows. They had all had a good time talking and laughing around the Weber kettle, toasting the marshmallows until they were a warm gooey mess. It had taken him hours to get the sticky stuff off his leather jacket, much to the amusement of his companions. The thought made him nostalgic and a little sad. As much as Jack's very presence bothered him, he wished the Captain was with them tonight.

Dinner was a lively affair. In between bites of stew and garlic bread, Susan, Matthew and Rose tried their hardest to scare Mickey out of his wits. It didn't help that the coyotes were especially loud that night; their cries gave the twins' stories an added air of legitimacy. Rose laughed at her childhood friend on more than one occasion; he was just too naïve for his own good sometimes. The Doctor added his own frightening stories as they melted marshmallows over the campfire and ate their s'mores.

"I'm sure we're much too loud for any animal to come and bother us. Besides, all the food's going back into the TARDIS tonight, so there won't be anything for the bears to be interested in." Melissa included everyone in her speech, but her comments were intended to reassure Mickey more than anyone else.

Once they had cleaned up the dinner dishes, the group decided to do some stargazing. The sky was clear, and it seemed that the entire Milky Way was visible in the black sky. As Rose impressed the kids with her knowledge of the constellations, Melissa quietly separated herself from the group, sitting with her back to the dying campfire. As she absent-mindedly rubbed her forehead, she stared at the southeastern horizon, suddenly grief stricken.

Noticing her solitude, the Doctor sat beside her. "You okay?"

She didn't answer for a while, too caught up with the sky to notice anything. Finally, she dropped her gaze to turn her attention to him. Her voice almost hoarse with tears, she reluctantly admitted, "I thought I'd be able to see its light, but it's gone, like it never was. It's my fault."

Confused, he looked up, trying to see what she did not. His eyes rested on a familiar empty space, and his hearts thudded painfully in his chest. "That's not your burden, Melissa. It's mine."

Carefully, he placed his arm around her shoulder, the better to support her if she fainted, but she merely blinked a few times and looked at him in puzzlement. "I'm sorry; I must have dozed for a second. Did you ask me something?"

He put on a fake smile, letting go of her shoulder. "No need to be sorry. Fresh air, exercise, good food, even I will sleep well tonight." Abruptly changing the topic, he said, "Tell me about your grandfather."

She glanced at him in surprise, but he only had a look of polite interest on his face, and it wasn't like he could cross the parallel to chide her grandfather on how he had raised her. "What do you want to know?"

"Was he your father's or mother's father?"

She thought for a minute, completely flummoxed. "You know, I'm not sure. That's odd. I never even wondered. He was just Grandfather to me."

"He never showed you pictures of your parents?"

"No, we lost everything in the fire," she answered automatically.

"So, he was living with you at the time of the fire?" he immediately replied, his tone no longer casual.

"I, no, I mean, why would he? He's never done anything besides run his school." Shrugging, she added with a hint of bitterness, "He was probably too angry at me to show me any pictures. When he was in a very bad mood and I had the misfortune of being in his sight, he would tell me what a disappointment I was, and that I was responsible for the death of everything he held dear."

"What's your earliest memory of him?" he prodded, even though he could see that the topic of conversation was dredging up painful memories.

"Just him being in charge of the Academy. That's the only thing he cared about, really."

As if she had made some sort of mistake, he sharply remarked, "You don't remember him telling you about the death of your parents?"

Melissa stared at him for a moment in shock, idly rubbing her forehead. "I, uh, he must have—maybe I've just repressed it like everything else before the fire. He didn't even visit me when I was in the Academy infirmary having all those operations." Her voice became more puzzled as she spoke. Why hadn't his behavior seemed strange at the time?

"This academy, is that where you went to school? Why would they have a surgeon?"

"They just did," she answered simply, never having questioned that fact before. However, her voice turned to acid when she spoke of the school. "I wasn't good enough to rate going, you know. The Academy was a special school for special people, and Grandfather told me time and time again that I wasn't nearly smart enough to keep up. I spent my days in the main house, being tutored by whatever teacher had an off period."

She grew thoughtful, and he let her speak, having already confirmed his theory. "You know, I used to assume they all hated me. I mean, I'm sure Grandfather didn't even think about paying them extra for my lessons, and I know that they didn't have much free time. The students didn't get a summer break. But most of them were very kind to me, kinder than Grandfather, any rate. They never told me what a failure I was. In fact, they were very patient with me. I'm afraid I wasn't a very good student."

"So you didn't go to a regular school, then? His manner became gentle and profoundly sympathetic, but she didn't notice, lost in her reminisces of the past.

"No, I didn't go to a real school until I went to high school, but that was a disaster. As soon as everyone knew about my past, no one except the counselors wanted to have anything to do with me. When I got to LSU, I was really surprised that people actually seemed to like me, and then I met Mark. You know, he was the first guy I ever kissed."

She smiled self-consciously, remembering how very naïve she had been. "Clichéd, I know, but he treated me like a normal person, and I thought he worshipped me. I'd never had anybody think I was good looking or smart or witty. He convinced me to marry him as soon as I turned twenty-one, and it surprised us both when I got pregnant the next month."

Growing pensive, she expressed feelings she had never acknowledged out loud, hardly remembering that the Doctor sat beside her. "I don't think he was ready to be a father quite so soon, you know, but he adapted. He loved the kids. He kept volunteering for TDY's, though. He'd be gone, three, four weeks, six months, three months, even before 9/11. He'd always tell me that he was doing it so we could buy a house, but I knew better. Not that I blamed him, he signed on for the Air Force even before we started dating, and they don't have the motto, 'Service Before Self', for no reason. Besides, I had twins to take care of."

Embarrassed at having revealed quite so much, she smiled brittlely. "I'm sorry. You must think I'm horrible talking about Mark like that. He was a wonderful father. I didn't mean to imply he wasn't."

Ignoring her apology, he said kindly, "And you're a wonderful mother; I only have to look at your children to know that."

She relaxed at his praise, and the Doctor took the opportunity to turn back to the rest of the group. "Why don't we turn in, eh? I thought we could look for the elk herd tomorrow. Interesting animals, elks, when I was with the Ute—"

"I thought you said it was bedtime." Rose interrupted him cheekily, her tongue poking slightly out of her mouth as she gave him a grin.

"What's bedtime without a bedtime story?" Giving her an enthusiastic hug, he grinned back manically, not wanting to call attention to Melissa, who was still melancholy. "So, Rose Tyler, if not the Ute, what bedtime story would you like?"

Mickey shifted uncomfortably as the Doctor sat Rose on his lap by the campfire, talking softly to her as she looked wide-eyed into his eyes. Once again, he was forgotten, although at least this time he wasn't alone. No one else seemed to care, however. Melissa and Susan soon bid him a good night, unzipping the girls' tent and snapping a glow stick so they wouldn't be in complete darkness.

Following Matthew unenthusiastically to the tent, Mickey tried to get the Doctor and Rose out of his mind. "So, we got sleeping bags or we have to sleep on the ground?" He really hated camping. It was already cold and he hoped the sleeping bags were warm.

Stepping into their tent, Matthew handed him a Mummy bag. "You'll probably get too hot in this, but it's rated to minus forty. We've even got some pads for the ground. Susan insists camping shouldn't be too primitive."

"Good then." Relieved, Mickey crawled into the sleeping bag and was soon asleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rose and Melissa woke up to the sounds of high-pitched screaming coming from the boys' tent. It was Mickey, who had managed to collapse the tent on top of him as he struggled to flee from the attacking bear. At least, he thought it had been an attacking bear. It actually turned out to be Susan and Matthew and a couple of sticks.

Laughing at Mickey, Rose quickly went back to bed, threatening the teens with death if they woke her up again before dawn. Susan slunk off to bed as well, feeling a little guilty that they had scared Mickey Smith quite that much. Melissa helped Matthew and Mickey pitch the tent, and then made her son apologize, which he did with good grace. The two promised to get some more rest. Wide awake even though it was only four in the morning, Melissa decided to light a fire and make some coffee, but the Doctor had beaten her to it.

"Did you sleep at all?" She suspected he hadn't, no matter what he had said the night before.

"I slept a few days ago. Humans, you waste half your life sleeping, you know." Handing her a mug of instant coffee, he hoped she would let the subject drop.

"New nightmares?" She was on dangerous ground, and she knew it, but she was too concerned to stop asking the question.

"Something like that," he allowed after a minute, knowing she wouldn't ask him to clarify. Images of a dead Madame de Pompadour taking a carriage to Paris troubled his dreams. Only when he looked into the hearse, it was Rose he saw instead of the French courtesan. Seeing Rose lifeless bothered him far more than his usual nightmares.

Melissa dropped the subject; she wasn't going to get a straight answer from him anytime soon. Instead, she focused on drinking her coffee, trying to muster the courage to ask him about UNIT. Finally, she mentioned offhandedly, "UNIT sent someone by the house."

"Did they?" he answered, sounding somewhat distracted. He was still pondering their conversation of the previous night.

"Yeah, actually, this major's been by several times. He keeps asking questions about you."

"Oh?" His attention snapped like a rubber band, and suddenly she was being scrutinized in a way that made her slightly nervous.

He must have seen the underlying fear in her expression, because when he continued, his voice had a hard edge that definitely made her uneasy. "If he's bothering you, I can take care of it."

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him just how much Major Marshall was bothering her, but his eyes stopped her cold. His normally kind, laughing brown eyes blazed with the promise of angry retribution, and it was the first time she had ever been truly afraid to be in his presence. At that instant, she could believe the stories Rose had told her the night before about the Oncoming Storm.

Swallowing nervously, she downplayed her fears. "He's annoying, but I can handle it. Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I brought it up; I didn't mean to upset you."

For a moment, it was as if he searched her soul, and then just as suddenly, his expression changed, and he once again became nothing more than the kind alien who had befriended a lost family on a mountain in Colorado. "If you're certain. But, Melissa, if he makes you uncomfortable, I can do something about it. It's nice that UNIT's taken an interest in your wellbeing, but they don't need to send someone round to ask questions about me. Just tell whoever asks again to take it up with the source. If they need something, I generally find out one way or the other."

"Sure," she managed to say without squeaking. They sat with an awkward silence between them until she thought of a safer topic.

"So, what's on the agenda today?"

"Elk? I could have the TARDIS scan for the herd, or we can just do some hiking and hope to run into them. Which would be more fun, do you think?"

"You might as well scan for the elk, Doctor. I don't think Mickey's going to enjoy wandering around all day just hoping to see something." Finishing her coffee, she stretched, trying to get the stiffness out of her back. Sleeping on the ground, even with a pad underneath her sleeping bag, was not as comfortable as it used to be.

Later, the Doctor did just that, and took them by TARDIS to spy on the elk herd in private. Even Melissa was impressed; she had forgotten how big the animals were. These were no overgrown deer.

Afterwards, they returned to the campsite, and Susan suggested a scavenger hunt, using the Junior Ranger pamphlet she had picked up at the visitor's center as a guide. Everyone, even Mickey was enthusiastic, especially when Melissa offered to fix the winner's dessert of choice that night as a prize. Separating into three teams, they agreed to take pictures of everything they found, and to meet back at the camp site in two hours.

The Doctor found himself paired this time with Matthew. Walking along the trail, he kept his head down, looking for animal tracks in the soft mud while trying to ignore the strained silence between them. Finally, Matthew spoke.

"Mom said you know where Dad is."

"I know where he was," the Doctor admitted reluctantly. "I don't know where Jack is right now. I'm sorry, Matthew." He stopped walking, leaning against a tree. He was going to regret leaving Jack for a very long time, no matter that he had done it to protect Rose. In doing so, he had hurt three people he cared about. He should at least give the boy a chance to yell at him; it wouldn't change anything, but it might make him feel better.

Matthew didn't yell, however. Instead, he took a picture of the tree the Doctor was standing next to. There was an abandoned bird's nest near the lower limb that was on the scavenger hunt.

"She said something bad happened to him, and that he might not want to come back." After a minute, he took the camera away from his face and the Doctor could see the anxiety in his features. "If you ever see him, can you tell him . . . tell him I don't care what's the matter with him? Tell him he can come back anytime."

"I will, Matthew," the Time Lord responded gravely, guilt gnawing at his insides. Needing desperately to change the topic, he straightened and put on a delighted grin. "Now, I happen to know where we can find some coyote tracks not too far from here. Want to see if that camera of yours can get a good shot?"

"Sure." Excited by the prospect of winning the scavenger hunt, Matthew let the Doctor lead him to safer topics.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Four hours and thirty-three minutes later, Matthew and the Doctor led in the scavenger hunt results, but no one cared at that point. Rose and Melissa still hadn't returned. When they were two hours late, the Doctor decided to go looking for them, warning the other three not to leave the campsite. Taking off in the direction he had seen them leaving all those hours ago, he tried to tell himself that there must be a very logical explanation.

For a while it was easy to track their path; the trail was muddy enough that both had left deep impressions as they walked. Then, they had turned to a more rocky trail, but he was able to follow them a while by carefully watching for bits of muck that had come off their shoes. Finally, the signs of their passing became too faint to track, and he stood silently on the trail, wondering which direction they would have logically taken.

He was just about to admit defeat and return with the TARDIS when he heard the faint sound of a shrill whistle. Racing to the origin of the noise, he was dismayed to find them both at the bottom of a steep drop. It looked like Rose must have slipped, judging by the fact that Melissa had her sitting down, her left ankle elevated in front of her. The older woman was still blowing the whistle, and it took a moment for the Doctor to make himself heard over the loud blare.

"Oi, Melissa! You got the cavalry; you can stop calling now!"

Startled, she looked up, grinning at him in relief. "Thank goodness! You won't believe how long I've been doing that. Rose left her phone in the tent and mine wouldn't get a signal!" Her voice was hoarse, and he could believe that she'd been blowing the whistle for a very long time. Her hand was also clamped over the right side of her face, but she seemed to be in good spirits.

"Doctor! You wouldn't happen to have a rope in those pockets of yours, would you?" Rose smiled happily at him, but it was obvious she was in a lot of pain. Quickly, he went through his pockets, finding a long rope to secure around a sturdy tree. Expertly, he lowered himself down.

"Let's take a look at your ankle, eh?" Gently, he probed Rose's injury, gratified to learn that her ankle was no more than sprained, although he knew it must hurt terribly.

Quietly, so only the Doctor could hear, Melissa suggested, "Take a look at her back and head, would you? I don't know if she lost consciousness from the fall, but she landed on her back, and she was a little confused when I first found her."

Melissa's hand was covering the entire right side of her face, and he intended to take a look at her injuries, but that thought fled when she told him Rose had been disoriented. Grimly, he scanned Rose, finding that while she had a bump on the back of her head, she wasn't concussed. It hit him like a blow, however, that he could have lost her today, in a National Park in the United States of America in the early twenty-first century, no less. Humans were so very fragile; they had such a short life, and the thought of losing her almost made him sick.

"S'alright, Doctor. I'm fine, just twisted my ankle." His companion could sense his concern, even if she didn't understand the depth of his panic.

"'Course you are, Rose Tyler. Too nice of a day to go splat down a mountainside, though, don't you think?" His voice was teasing, whimsical even, and she gladly played along.

"Couldn't help the splat, now could I? I rolled over some loose stones and ended up sliding down a ravine! It was a lot bumpier ride than that giant slide we went on Pemhik. Don't know how Melissa got here so fast without sliding as well."

"Just call me a Billy goat." She answered as lightheartedly as she could, but her right cheek and eye were really starting to sting. In her haste to reach Rose, she hadn't noticed a tree branch poking out of the rocks and had ended up badly scraping her face and eye. Not that she cared at the moment; she just wanted to get Rose back on the trail and safely in the TARDIS. They could have a movie night with pizza at home this evening. Suddenly, she wasn't as fond of camping as she remembered.

Focused entirely on Rose's welfare, the Doctor nodded absently. It was going to be impossible for her to climb by herself, and he was already tying the rope around her in an expert imitation of a harness. Easily scrambling up the steep incline, he called down for Melissa to keep Rose from dashing against the stones, and began to haul her upwards.

Melissa followed awkwardly behind, gritting her teeth against the pain to her eye. She had definitely scratched it; she felt that it was being rubbed by sandpaper every time she blinked. By the time she made it up to the trail, the Doctor had taken Rose out of the improvised harness and was carrying her on his back. Breathing a sigh of relief, she saw that both were laughing about Rose's accident as they hurried as fast as they could towards the TARDIS.

Walking back to the campsite in long, quick strides, the Doctor allowed himself to relax. Rose was fine, cheekily giving him directions until he teased her about being a back seat driver. It could have been much worse, a more defeatist part of his mind whispered, even as he repeated, 'she's fine, she's fine' over and over in his head. Reaching his ship, he gave a cheery wave to Mickey, Susan and Matthew, who were hunched anxiously by the campfire.

"Found our missing hiker! Rose decided to take the most direct route down a mountain. Had to rescue the damsel in distress!"

"Oi!, it's just a sprained ankle! I am not in distress!" She was still being carried piggy back by the Doctor and was enjoying the attention.

"Where's Mom?"

Susan's question startled the Doctor. Turning around, he commented, slightly perplexed, "She was right behind me, although I did walk quite quickly. Still, I'm sure she'll be here in a couple of minutes. I'm going to take the damsel who's most definitely not in distress to the infirmary to get her ankle patched up.

Laughing, the two entered the TARDIS. Looking forebodingly at the kids, Mickey couldn't help but snipe. "Bet he has no idea where your mother is right now."

"Shut up, Mickey," they answered in unison.

Her vision blurry in her right eye, Melissa had taken the wrong path for almost a quarter mile before realizing her mistake. Retracing her steps, she walked determinedly until she found the fork she should have taken. As she absentmindedly wiped her face with the back of her hand, she was surprised to see fresh blood on her skin. She took a moment to find a pad of gauze in her daypack. Holding it against her cheek, she continued on the path, hoping to reach camp soon.

Susan and Matthew's look of dismay frightened her when she arrived at the campsite forty-five minutes later. "I'm fine," she snapped. The last thing she wanted was a big fuss made over her. Susan had gone pale, immediately sitting down when she saw how badly her mother's face was gouged. Matthew, however, gripped her by the arm, pulling her towards the TARDIS.

"Your eyelid's torn in the corner. You definitely need stitches, if not a trip to the ER."

"See, what d' I tell ya? He didn't have a clue, bloody Time Lord."

Mickey's grumble was loud enough for them all to hear, but no one paid him any attention. Susan began putting out the campfire, knowing they weren't staying that night, not with Rose and her mother hurt. Matthew continued to drag his mom into the TARDIS. Too weary to fight with him, she let him lead her to the infirmary, where Rose was sitting on the bed, listening raptly to the Doctor lecture her about the difference between strains and sprains, broken bones and torn ligaments.

Neither noticed them until Matthew gave a loud, disrespectful, "Ahem!" Think you could be bothered to take a look at my mother?"

Glancing up in confusion, the Doctor's mouth opened in surprise. He closed it with a definite snap, knowing it was far too late to apologize. Rose looked up as well, shock evident in her face.

"You told me it was just a scratch!" Hopping off the bed, she bounced to the chair, gesturing for Matthew to bring his mother inside the infirmary.

"It is just a scratch," Melissa protested, suddenly exhausted. "Matthew, would you help Susan and Mickey pack up the tents and gear? Make sure the fire's out, too. I think we'll order pizza tonight, if that's okay."

"That's fine, Mom." Not trusting himself to speak to the Doctor again, he left quickly.

Silently, the Doctor assessed her wound, grimacing involuntarily as he saw the torn eyelid. The silence unnerved Melissa; immediately, she started apologizing. "I'm sorry. Matthew shouldn't have been rude. I'm fine; I promise."

Carefully washing out the cut, the Doctor defended the teen. "He had every right to be rude. Can you see at all out of your eye?"

"My vision's blurry," she finally admitted, a tremor of fear in her voice.

"I'm going to take care of that, but you're going to have to stay in the infirmary overnight." Gently irrigating her scratched and bloodshot eyeball, he then deftly sutured her face and eyelid, using an advanced adhesive that would dissolve as the cuts healed. Knowing exactly where to find the salve and drops he was looking for, the Doctor pulled open on of the lower drawers near the door to the infirmary.

Tilting her head back, he held the bottle near her injured eye, explaining as he worked. "I'm sorry, Melissa, but this is going to sting. The drops will heal any infection that might have gotten into your eye, and mend the scratches on your cornea, alright?"

Before she could even nod, he held her eyelid open, dropping the medicine slowly onto the damaged eyeball. She clenched her fists in pain, her entire body tensing.

"Take it easy," he soothed quietly, glancing briefly at Rose, who was nervously biting her bottom lip. "Just a few more drops, and then I have something that will deaden the pain." Biting her tongue to keep from crying out, she hoped he would hurry.

Her eye closed shut, encased in a numbing salve, she unclenched her muscles, trying not to worry. Staring up with her good eye, she caught the Doctor's frown. He must have seen her because he turned it into an affable grin.

"Can't have you straining your good eye, I'm afraid. Going to have to cover them both for the duration. No movie for you tonight."

He worked efficiently, covering her eyes with a soft, dark bandage. Rose talked to her all the while, carrying on a one-sided conversation, letting Melissa know she wasn't alone. The older woman appreciated her concern, listening to stories of their most recent adventures until she felt a disconcerting wave of dizziness wash over her.

"Something's wrong." She slurred out the words as best as she could, noting with increasing fear that her tongue was numb.

"It's the salve," the Doctor explained as he propped her head and shoulders up on a large, comfortable pillow. You'll be fine, but this is why I said you'd be spending the night in here. The best thing for you to do is to sleep. The ointment acts like a sedative as well as an anesthetic.

Melissa woke slowly, her mind foggy, wondering who was talking to her. Concentrating as best she could, she realized that it was Rose. After listening sleepily for a few minutes, she finally was alert enough to understand her. "I'm awake."

"Oh, Melissa! Didn't mean to bother you. The Doctor said you'd probably sleep like a log. How's the eye?"

"Numb." So was her face and the inside of her mouth, but she managed to speak much clearer this time.

"It's all my fault. 'M sorry."

She could practically hear Rose biting her lip. "Not your fault, Rose. Just bad luck. How are you feeling?"

Rose sighed. "My ankle's lots better." There was a long silence, and she was drifting back to sleep when Rose's sadness shocked her into awareness.

"Ever since Madame de Pompadour died—" Rose thought for a moment. "Nah, ever since Sarah Jane, I've been doing a lot of thinking, you know? He told me I could spend the rest of my life with him, but he couldn't spend the rest of his life with me."

"But you knew that already, didn't you Rose?" Surely she had; the Doctor had mentioned several times how he was over nine hundred years old, after all.

"Knowing it and seeing it are two different things," the young woman remarked honestly. "Just don't understand why he holds himself back. Me and him, we're-"

But she didn't finish the sentence, rambling somewhat as she expressed herself. "That day Mum slapped him 'cause she thought he was interested in me for one thing, I told her it was better than that, and it is, but sometimes. . ." She trailed off, not knowing how to explain her confused feelings.

"But sometimes you want that?" Melissa suddenly felt sorry for her.

"Been wanting that ever since he told me he danced!" Rose admitted enthusiastically before turning sober. "I used to think he just didn't do that, yeah? But after the last few trips, now I wonder if he doesn't just do that with me."

Wishing she could see the expression on Rose's face, Melissa sighed. "Men are complicated, Rose, even a double-hearted Time Lord. You've got two choices as far as I can tell. You can tell him you want more-you might get it, or you might ruin the relationship you already have. Or, you leave things as they are."

"'M not willing to risk what I have just for a little sex." Rose's denial was emphatic, but there was a hint of wistfulness in her voice.

"But it would be more than just sex to you, wouldn't it?"

Suddenly, the young woman gripped her hand. "Yeah, yeah it would. But I guess you know that already. I'm really sorry about Jack, Melissa."

Rose looked at her watch, although the other woman couldn't see her movements. "Stayed way past my shift. The Doctor should be here any minute. Don't want him to see me moping 'bout something that's not going to change. Thanks for being a good listener, Melissa. Sorry I woke you up." With that, Rose limped out of the infirmary, and Melissa drifted off once again.

The next day, Rose had no desire to acknowledge their nighttime conversation, which was fine by Melissa. She was nervous enough as it was without worrying about the intricacies of her friends' relationship. When the Doctor removed her bandages, revealing a perfectly healthy pair of green eyes, she breathed a huge sigh of relief.

The three travelers left congenially soon afterwards, the Doctor promising to drop by again sometime. As they were leaving, Rose handed her friend a piece of paper with Sarah Jane Smith's phone number; she thought Melissa might like talking to someone else who could understand just how weird life could be. Mumbling goodbyes, Mickey was particularly glad to go. The kids had gotten on his nerves, and their mother had challenged him to take responsibility for his actions in a way he had never considered. It was a lot to think about.

All swiftly went back to normal in the Morgan household. A week later, Melissa received a text.

_Been dancing. UR a good friend. -Rose_

Just a few months later, Rose's name appeared on a list of the dead, killed at Canary Wharf.


	13. Tea and Sympathy

Melissa tugged impatiently at her panty hose, hoping not to put a hole in them. She was already running late, and didn't have time to drive to the drug store to get another pair. Really, it was the Gibson's fault; they hadn't picked up Susan and Matthew for the lock-in until after six, and she hadn't wanted to get dressed before they came. Stupid in retrospect, but she hadn't wanted her children guessing she had a date with Greg.

Susan and Matthew would be appalled if they knew she was spending New Year's Eve with the new football coach at their school. He was almost ten years her junior, and she could imagine their embarrassment. Matthew, especially, would be upset that she was cheating on Jack. It was time to move on, though, wasn't it?

Slipping on her little black dress, she searched her closet for the heels she had bought two weeks ago after Greg had invited her to dinner at the Broadmoor for New Year's Eve. They would stay and watch the fireworks. The fact that he had also booked a room was implied, but not directly stated. He had told her to pack a bag, but hadn't mentioned where she would be staying. Well, he wouldn't be the first man who anticipated sex after an expensive dinner, she decided. It just wasn't very inventive, or maybe it was and she was merely jaded.

She no longer knew what constituted normal, especially on this Earth. She had had two nights and three months with the most inventive and passionate man in the universe. Maybe Jack had just spoiled her for everyone else. Maybe she didn't want to go out tonight at all. Hell, she knew she didn't want to go out tonight. She wanted her husband back, but from the secret files she'd been reading, she wasn't sure that was possible. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't impossible, though.

She was still Mrs. Harkness, wasn't she? Although, if it were until death do us part, maybe she wasn't. She had been reading about what Torchwood had done to her husband when he had arrived in Cardiff so long ago, and it had literally made her sick. Okay, there was no way she was sleeping with Greg tonight, but she could go to dinner. Then, if she was bold enough-

Putting that thought out of her head, she rummaged in her jewelry box looking for the matching crystal earrings and necklace she had bought to go with her outfit. She could have afforded something nicer, but didn't believe in spending her money on frivolous things. When she wasn't blacking out, she was making enough to save for her kids' college and put a little aside each month in the hope of one day repaying the Doctor. She knew he didn't need the money, but she wanted to make the gesture. She thought that he would understand it was a sign of respect, even if he didn't accept the repayment. She worried that she would not see him again, however.

It had been seven months since the Cybermen had invaded and then mysteriously disappeared. That day had been terrifying for her and her children. She, Susan and Matthew had made it to the basement and locked themselves in the safe room. Just as she feared the invaders would crash through the wall, she and the kids had felt a horrible pulling sensation and were pinned against the door, as if a giant vacuum cleaner were trying to suck them up. After a few minutes, they slid to the floor, Melissa with a broken shoulder.

She had seen a list of the dead a week later, and had been devastated when she read Rose Tyler's name. Even her mother, Jackie, had been killed. The Doctor wasn't mentioned, but then he wouldn't be, would he? She assumed he was alive since his name still gave her a little power over her tormentor, but she tried not to think about that too much. When she read the news reports about the strange star in London and the Thames being drained on Christmas Eve, she decided the Doctor was indeed alive. Whether she would ever see him again was another question entirely.

She had just finished putting on her make-up, and was trying to find her black velvet clutch when she heard the doorbell ring. Cursing Greg under her breath for being twenty minutes early, she yanked open the door.

"Doctor?"

His face was haggard, dark stubble visible on his chin. His brown suit was rumpled, hanging off his frame as if he had lost weight. His overly pale features gave a stark prominence to his freckles. Fearing that he was sick or injured, she took his hand and led him inside. He did not protest as he silently followed behind her, and that scared her much more than his disheveled appearance.

Leading him into the kitchen, she made him sit at the table. He still didn't speak or acknowledge her presence. Quickly heating some water in the microwave, she fixed him a strong cup of hot tea. After adding a liberal amount of honey and lemon, she placed it in his hands and ordered him to drink. Surprisingly, he complied.

Grabbing the cordless phone and quickly dialing Greg's cell phone, she retreated to the den to cancel her date. "Greg, sorry to call at such short notice, but something's come up," she began, the worry evident in her voice.

"No, the kids are fine; they went to the lock-in . . . . No, I'm fine, too," she said, starting to get impatient. The Doctor wouldn't stay in the kitchen for long, would he?

"Look, Greg," she told him, cutting off another question of his, "I'm sorry to have to do this, but I'm going to have to cancel tonight. A friend of mine's here unexpectedly, and he needs my help."

"He's an old friend," she responded truthfully when the football coach began to question who was at the house. "I do not want you coming here, Greg. This isn't any of your business."

"Yeah, well, it's not what you think, so get your mind out of the gutter . . . . And you are an egotistical idiot!" she shouted as she ended the call. "Asshole," she muttered as she put the phone on the coffee table.

"Sorry," a voice whispered behind her, making her jump. He was leaning against the wall, and she wasn't sure he was able to stand on his own. He looked exhausted, although some color had returned to his cheeks. The hot tea must have helped a little. Ignoring his apology, she gave him a long hug, careful to let him remain against the wall.

"She's gone," he finally told her, the pain in his voice so raw it brought tears to her eyes.

She hugged him a little harder and sniffled. "I know." Wiping her eyes, she told him, "You look like hell; you're going to sleep here tonight."

The comment about his looks brought out a wan smile, but he protested weakly, "I don't need any sleep. I'll be fine."

"That's why you can't even stand without support," she shot back, determined he wasn't going to escape into the TARDIS that night.

"Touché," he allowed, still leaning against the wall.

Suspiciously eyeing his clothing, she asked, "When's the last time you ate?"

He shrugged. "Not sure. I've been busy."

Deciding that he needed food before he needed sleep, she brought him back into the kitchen. Refilling his mug with tea, she began to cook a large breakfast of toast, scrambled eggs and bacon. He watched her cook, but didn't say anything. The silence was only broken by the sizzling of the bacon, and Melissa found herself biting the inside of her lip to resist filling the silence with questions. She was relieved when the eggs were set. Filling two plates, she brought them to the table along with a bunch of bananas.

"I know you think I'm hungry, but even I can't eat all that." Nevertheless, the Doctor began to peel a banana.

"You better not. One of those plates is for me," she answered lightly as she searched the refrigerator for butter and jelly. Finding an open jar of cherry preserves and a new jar of orange marmalade, she set both on the table along with a stick of butter. She was about to sit down when she realized that she hadn't put out forks, knives, spoons or napkins, so she grabbed utensils as well. Handing a set to the Doctor, she finally sat down.

He ate hesitantly at first, picking at his food. She concentrated on eating her own dinner and didn't comment. By the end of dinner, he was eating with enthusiasm, and had managed to put his fingers in the marmalade. For her part, she used a spoon for the cherry preserves and let him have the other jar.

"Better?" she finally asked when his plate was clean and there were three banana peels on the table.

"Yeah," he answered simply. When the resulting silence became oppressive, he sprang from the table, vigorously washing his hands in the kitchen sink. "Dishes! Can't let you do the dishes, Melissa Morgan. Not after you just cooked for me. Wouldn't be fair." Manically, he raced around the kitchen grabbing dirty plates and bowls, efficiently shoving them into the dishwasher.

She watched him impassively, knowing his cleaning frenzy for the avoidance tactic it was. Deciding that he needed some outlet for all of that sugar he had just consumed, she did not interrupt him until the dishwasher was full. Before he could grab a skillet and start scrubbing, she laid a hand on his arm.

"Thank you, but the pots and pans can wait a while. You have more important things to do."

"What?" He eyed her suspiciously. Without answering, she led him down the hall. Stopping briefly in Matthew's room, she grabbed a t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. Then, she led him to the bathroom next to the guest bedroom.

"Take a shower; your suit looks like you've been wearing it a while, and you have stubble on your chin." Taking out a washcloth and towel from the closet in the hallway, she handed it to him. "There's a new toothbrush and extra toiletries in the basket by the sink. I'm going to be waiting in the hallway, so don't even think about making a run for it."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied tiredly, with no hint of teasing in his voice. Twenty-nine minutes and one steamy bathroom later, he was back in the hall, looking slightly nervous. Melissa reached up and gently rubbed his face, satisfied to feel that he had shaved as well. She was surprised that instead of pulling back he leaned into her touch. How long had it been since Canary Wharf for him?

Deciding that he needed sleep more than she needed details, she led him into the guest bedroom. He sat heavily on the bed, and tried his best to charm her out of her determination to see him sleep. The dark circles under his eyes and the hollowness of his cheeks did not help his case.

Finally, he stopped pretending to be cheery. "I appreciate your concern, but it would be better for both of us if I slept in the TARDIS tonight." Seeing that she was not to be deterred, he finally admitted, "Melissa, I haven't slept since I lost Rose. I, well, I think it would be better if I were alone.

"I'm not afraid of your nightmares," she told him staunchly.

"You should be," the Doctor replied darkly. "I am."

"Stop trying to get rid of me, because it's not going to work." She scooted the chair she was sitting on closer to him. "I'm going to be right here, all night if that's what it takes, but you are going to sleep. You're exhausted, and I know Rose wouldn't want to see you like this."

"Now, you're not fighting fair," he grumbled, but lay down on the bed, allowing her to cover him with the sheets and quilt. He was on his back, and she could tell even in the darkness that he was staring at the ceiling. She patted his hand, and he grabbed hers, not letting it go.

After ten minutes, his breathing evened, and she hoped that he had finally fallen asleep. She quietly attempted to get comfortable on the swivel chair, but it wasn't made for napping, and her arm was uncomfortably stretched so that she could still hold the Doctor's hand. An amused snort stopped her wiggling.

"Your back will be horribly stiff sitting in that chair all night. If you're determined to make sure I sleep, you can at least lie down, too." As an afterthought he added, "I don't bite."

Relieved that he seemed determined to sleep, she did not point out how squashed she would be trying to share a twin bed with him. She did make him turn on his side so that she could scrunch up next to him; even then, her backside was perched precariously on the edge of the bed.

At some point, they both fell into a fitful sleep. The nightmares did not come for a few hours. Each time, she held him as he shook. Afterwards, he would drift, only to be wracked by another nightmare an hour or so later. It was four in the morning the last time she checked the clock, but she didn't wake again until the doorbell rang at ten.

Disoriented, she ran to get the door before the Doctor woke up. Pulling it open, she came face to face with a scandalized Tiffany Gibson and a confused Susan and Matthew. Belatedly, Melissa remembered that she had been so concerned about the Doctor that she hadn't changed out of her black dress. Her sleep rumpled clothes, wild hair and smeared mascara must make quite a picture.

Deciding that explanations would only make things worse, she brightly addressed the PTA Secretary. "Thanks so much for bringing Susan and Matthew home. You're a real friend." She hoped the emphasis on friend would dampen Tiffany's enthusiasm for subsequent gossip.

Her hopes were dashed when she opened the door wider to let the kids inside. "Doctor! When did you get here?"

Tiffany's eyebrows disappeared into her bangs, and Melissa knew that the phone lines would be busy among PTA members this morning. Well, at least she hadn't been found with Greg in the house. Perhaps there was a silver lining after all. As the twins rushed behind her to give the Doctor a hug, she firmly, but politely shut the door.

The Doctor let the twins hug him as he awkwardly patted their backs. Susan was the first to bring up Rose. "I'm sorry Rose died, Doctor. We all miss her."

Blinking, the Time Lord backed up and quickly addressed the family. "No, no, no, no, no, Rose isn't dead. She's fine. Better than fine, really, she's with her family, and Mickey. Can't forget Mr. Mickey."

He ran his hand through his untidy hair. "She's just lost. I mean, not lost. I know where she is after all, so how can she be lost? She's gone. That's it; she's gone to another universe. Much like you, now that I think about it. She just happens to be somewhere I can't get to, but she's fine, very fine. I said goodbye you know." As his hurried explanation wound down, his expression darkened and the absolute devastation Melissa had seen on his face last night returned. His speech ended, he leaned against the wall, spent.

Melissa looked significantly at her kids and suggested they go to their rooms and get some sleep, since she knew they hadn't had much the night before. Even Matthew, who was usually oblivious to the emotions of others, nodded quietly, and giving the Doctor a hesitant smile, retreated to his bedroom.

Leaving the Doctor alone with the television in the den, she slipped into the kitchen. It was snowing heavily, and she decided hot chocolate would be appropriate. She placed a tray with the drinks and some muffins on the coffee table in the den and offered a mug to the Doctor. He took the mug wordlessly, and began to sip distractedly. After a few minutes, he gave up trying to drink and began to speak. His words were more monologue than conversation, starting and stopping at odd intervals, but she did not interrupt.

"I burned up a sun just to say goodbye." He smiled softly at the memory. "She thought I was going to be able to bring her back. She had faith in me even then, but that is so Rose."

He paused for such a long time that Melissa wondered if he was finished, but then he continued in a broken voice. "We couldn't even touch. Then she told me about the baby, and for a second I hoped-but it was Jackie, course it was."

Again there was a long pause, and silent tears streamed down his face. "We only had two minutes, but she said it. Told me what I always knew. I wanted to give her that, at least, to actually say the words for once, but all I got to say was Rose Tyler, and then she was gone."

"She's gone; she's gone, she's gone," he repeated quietly as Melissa let him sob against her.

He finally sat up, and hastily wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry," he said. Melissa was still reeling from the things he had said, and wasn't quite sure for what he was apologizing.

"For what?" she asked, confused.

"For letting you think Rose was dead last night. It didn't even occur to me to let you know she was still alive. I wasn't thinking." He looked slightly bashful, and she wondered if he realized just how much of their relationship he had revealed to her during his rambling.

"It's nothing to apologize for. I'm glad she's alive and with her family. I think maybe I can understand a little bit better than most about how much it hurts to lose someone like that. I hope she's adjusting to her new world." She hadn't thought about her own family, stuck on a different Earth for several months. Suddenly, she missed her brother Brad.

"Maybe that's why the TARDIS brought me here." His smile was forced, but at least he was trying.

"Well, I'm glad one of you had some good sense. Remind me to thank her later."

She kept the conversation light after that, knowing that the Doctor was still on an emotional edge. She briefly considered telling him about Major Marshall and his new threats, but decided it was not the appropriate time. He needed a chance to rest and grieve.

He managed to eat a few muffins and finish his hot chocolate, although she was sure it was cold by then. When he promised that he wouldn't leave while she took a shower, she left him watching football and went to get dressed. She came back a while later wearing a comfortable pair of jeans and a navy cable knit sweater. He was snoring, his head tilted back and his mouth partially open.

Concerned to see him asleep again, she placed her fingers around his wrist trying to find his pulse. He woke up with a start, and seeing her concern, looked extremely embarrassed.

"When's the last time you slept, before last night?" she demanded, worried that he had pushed his body to its limit.

"Well, let me see, haven't really added it up, mind you." He began to speak in that teasing, self-deprecating tone he did so well, but she wasn't fooled in the slightest.

"I guess it was five days in London, dealing with the flat and. . . other things." She did not ask what other things, there would be time for her questions later. He continued after a moment, "Then, it took about two weeks to figure out how to send a message to the other universe. I had just said goodbye to Rose when Donna showed up inside the TARDIS, complicated that, and I had to sort out her wedding. I mean, who gets married on Christmas Eve? And she thought I was barmy. Called me a Martian. Do I look like a Martian to you?"

Noticing the lack of amusement on Melissa's face, he continued, "Anyway, drained the Thames for that one, I did. Spent some time in the Vortex afterwards, but that doesn't really count, does it? Then, I ended up here. So, how long was that? Three weeks, give or take? Yep, definitely, twenty, twenty-one days, maybe twenty-three.

Melissa stared at him, shocked. "You're an idiot, you know," she finally responded when what he said began to sink in. "I may be human, but even I know that it can't be good for anyone to go without sleep for so long. No wonder the TARDIS brought you here."

He might have protested, but Susan and Matthew chose that moment to appear. Melissa noticed that the Doctor's usual happy countenance was back on his face, although she could tell just how forced it was. She sighed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to have a meaningful conversation with him when her kids were in the room.

He must have known that, too, because he eagerly invited them to watch football with him. He let them explain pass interference, off sides and roughing the kicker, and when he dropped off to sleep in the middle of one of their explanations, they didn't mind. Their father had usually slept through football games in his easy chair, and both Susan and Matthew believed napping to be a normal football watching activity.

In between fixing snacks for her children and making sure they didn't wake the Doctor, Melissa starting calling her various acquaintances on the PTA. Most had already heard of her morning attire and leapt to their own conclusions, but Becky Cosgrove, at least, kept an open mind. Better yet, her kids were friends with Susan and Matthew.

"Look, Becky," she began, deciding to embellish the version of the truth that she had told Greg last night. "I need a favor. A good friend of mine showed up on my doorstop last night. His wife recently passed away and he's devastated. I'm worried about him, and I think he'll be more willing to talk if the kids aren't around."

Listening to her friend's sympathetic chatter, Melissa didn't even have to ask if Susan and Matthew could sleep at her house tonight. Becky offered of her own accord, and then asked if there was anything else she could do.

"You're a lifesaver, Becky. If you could just keep the kids tonight and most of tomorrow, that would be great. I really hate asking you over the holidays, but it's an emergency." Knowing that she would owe Becky at least one sleepover at her own house, Melissa thanked her again and hung up the phone.

The Doctor woke up in the middle of the fourth quarter, but the score was so lopsided that it wasn't even worth pretending to watch it. Sniffing the air, he asked, "What's that cooking? It smells good."

Matthew groaned theatrically and replied, "Mom's fixing her turkey carcass soup. Just be glad that she froze the ham bone, or you'd be subjected to red beans and rice tonight."

"Hey, I like turkey and sausage gumbo," Susan argued as she sent text messages to her friends.

"Yeah, well, we're eating whatever nasty stuff the Cosgrove's are having tonight, Sue. Mom's kicking us out of the house in an hour or two." Matthew continued to play solitaire on the coffee table.

"Matt!" Susan reprimanded. Sometimes her brother could be clueless. She snuck a glance at the Doctor, but he was busy channel flipping, and didn't seem to be paying attention. Or, maybe he was. After going through the channels once, he left mumbling, "Going to see your mother in the kitchen."

He found Melissa not in the kitchen, but in her bedroom. She was lying on her stomach on her bed reading The Great Gatsby. "I've never met Fitzgerald; wonder what he's like," the Doctor announced as he noticed what she was reading.

"Do you try to meet all your favorite authors?" she asked, suddenly curious.

"Oh, I've found that it's best not to try for too much of anything with the TARDIS. Random's so much more fun. Still, I have met a few authors in my time." He smiled, remembering past adventures.

"H.G. Wells was quite an interesting chap, although I didn't like the way he fictionalized the TARDIS in his book. Rose and I met Charles Dickens on Christmas Eve. Nice man, even if it took him a while to admit that aliens existed." He stared at the far wall, and Melissa knew he was lost in memories of Rose. A few moments later, she gently gripped his arm to pull him back to the present.

"Sorry." Still tired, he sat down in the chair next to Melissa. "I don't want you sending your children away during the holidays. I'll be fine. Somehow, I slept for six hours straight last night; that's plenty of sleep for me. Just wanted to say thank you, then I'll be leaving." He smiled and would have sounded normal to anyone who didn't know him well.

Biting the top of her lip, Melissa just watched him sitting in the chair, waiting for her response. It was telling that he had not immediately jumped up after his speech to start walking towards the door.

"You know, Doctor, there's a lot to be said for this regeneration, but at least in the last one you could admit that you needed help sometimes." He made a gesture of protest that she quickly stopped. "The kids are going to a friend's house, and you're staying, and that's final."

He didn't even pretend to argue with her, and she wondered how close to collapse he had been when he arrived on her doorstep last night. Sticking an old receipt in her book to mark her place, she led him back to the den. "I DVR'd the Rose parade. If that doesn't put you to sleep, I don't know what will."

She sat next to him on the sofa, intending to watch for only fifteen minutes or so. However, the Doctor had never actually seen the floats in the Rose parade before, and found them highly entertaining. Soon, they were both laughing as the commentators gravely stated how many grains of wheat were used to highlight the Lion King's mane. Their laughter attracted Susan and Matthew who soon joined them in making fun of some of the odder floats. As Melissa watched the Doctor out of the corner of her eye, she slowly began to relax. Although still physically exhausted, the smile on his face was genuine.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The gut-wrenching, violent nightmares erupted that night, and Melissa didn't know whether to be relieved or upset that he had persuaded her that he was fine to sleep by himself. Racing through the den to get to the guest bedroom, she found him screaming on the floor underneath the computer desk.

"Damn it!" She was leery of reaching into the safe space he had made for himself; she definitely did not want him to feel guilty afterwards if he were to lash out at her in his sleep. Not knowing what else to do, she flicked on the light switch and waited outside in the hallway, her head pressed against the wall.

Minutes later, she heard him moving, and then he was walking into the hall no doubt to make some tea and sit in the kitchen, awake and wary for the rest of the night. He stopped as he saw her.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked worriedly, not even trying to pretend that he was fine.

"No, but it looks like you hurt yourself," she told him as she noticed the blossoming purple mark on his left wrist.

"Oh," was all he said as she raised his hand so he could see.

He continued walking to the kitchen, but she stopped him and led him again into the den. "You need to talk about this, or it's only going to get worse." She sat down next to him on the sofa and turned on the side table lamp. Its soft glow cast strange shadows in the dimly lit room, and for just an instant, she saw the Doctor's prominent freckles and marveled at how someone so incredibly young could have endured so much pain. The illusion was gone just as quickly, and she reminded himself that he was over nine hundred years old.

"I just need some tea," he told her petulantly. "The tannins will help—"

"Yes, yes, the tannins will help the synapses. Heard that story before." Impatiently, she went to make him a cup of tea, peering out the kitchen every once in a while to make sure he hadn't bolted. Returning, she realized that he had been crying, although he wasn't at the moment. "Here," she said kindly, handing him the tea.

Watching him silently drink, she finally asked, "Are you going to talk about it, or are you going to keep it all inside until it explodes again?"

"Do I have a choice?" he asked, somewhat bitterly, but his eyes told her that he desperately wanted to unburden himself. Putting the mug down, he leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes. Haltingly, he started to speak.

"I've always had nightmares. Can't be a Time Lord and get involved without having them, I suppose. The mistakes I've made, all of them, they haunt me even now."

He finally opened his eyes, choosing to stare at the darkness outside the window rather than her. "After the Time War, it was different, though. I couldn't control the nightmares, wasn't sure I wanted to control them. Maybe I thought I deserved them, I don't know. All I know is that the guilt was killing me, little by little, and I didn't care. And then I met Rose."

His voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands for a moment before continuing. "She didn't make the nightmares go away; I don't think anyone could do that, but she made me care enough to fight against them. She made me better."

Pausing again, he finally looked at Melissa. The pain in his eyes hurt her like a physical blow, and it was all she could do to hold his gaze. His voice was raw as he continued. "She's gone now, and everything I had with her is gone as well. They took her from me, just like they've taken everything else."

"You're not talking about the Cybermen," she finally guessed, a sudden knot of uneasiness lodged in her stomach.

"No. In a way, that might have been easier to accept." The hurt and loathing in his voice was so strong that she almost told him to stop right then, but he needed to talk to someone, even if she was afraid she didn't have the fortitude to hear his story.

"There were Daleks at Canary Wharf, not just Cybermen. They had hidden themselves between the universes in a Void ship. Four extremely dangerous Daleks called the Cult of Skaro. They had managed to steal a prison ship, and unleashed it over the skies of London. All the sacrifices I've made, all the sacrifices my people made, the lives our allies lost, all gone in an instant. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't!"

He searched her eyes for understanding, and finding it, continued. "I had to open the Void, so it could pull everything that had travelled between the universes straight into hell."

He stopped speaking again, and when he continued, it was with a quiet tenderness. "I sent her away to another world; I sent her to be safe. I sent her with her mother, and Mickey, and even her father. She should have been happy. But she came back. She told me that she was never going to leave me, and she came back. She left her own mother and she chose me. And for that one brief moment, I believed in forever."

Blinking a few times, the Doctor wrestled for control of his emotions, and continued in a clipped, clinical tone. "Just a few minutes later, we were saving the world again. And then it all went wrong. There was a lever on her side keeping the Void open. It was knocked down, and she knew that it had to be pushed up and locked. So Rose saved the world by herself. She pushed the lever back up, keeping the Void open. But she didn't have anything to grip, and slowly she lost her hold on the lever. She was being sucked into the Void, and all I could do was watch. I'll never understand how Pete knew to use his Dimension hopper just when he did, but he suddenly appeared and caught her. And then she was gone, locked on the other side."

Shoulders sagging, he finally succumbed to his grief as he sobbed, "She's trapped, and I'm alone. And I don't think I have the strength to fight the nightmares anymore."

Watching him in sympathy, she could not bring herself to say that everything would be alright, because she wasn't sure that it ever would be. There was no inspiring anecdote she could tell him, no platitude that would have any significance. After a while, however, she knew she had to say something.

Taking a deep breath, she began. "I can't imagine what you're feeling. But a lifetime ago, you told Rose to have a fantastic life. You told her to do that for you. Now I'm telling you that you have to do the same thing for her. Because if you don't at least try, then the Daleks have finally won. All those sacrifices you talked about would be in vain. You are Time's Champion, and I'm sorry, but Time isn't finished with you yet."

Abruptly, he sat up. "What did you call me?"

I didn't call you anything," she stammered, pain her head suddenly making her wince. "I was saying that you couldn't give up. You have to go on for her."

Seeing her discomfort, he didn't press her. "I know, but sometimes I don't want to," he admitted.

Her headache lessening, she answered, "That's why you shouldn't be traveling alone. You need someone with you to give you a reason to fight."

"Perhaps," he conceded quietly, still uncomfortable with the idea of letting anyone, no matter how brilliant, replace Rose.

Knowing that his maybe was the best answer she could expect at the moment, Melissa stood up. "Come on, we'll go to my room this time. I'm not going to have my backside hanging off the bed like last night."

Surprised, he blurted, "You can't seriously think I'm going to let you sleep with me considering how violent that last nightmare was, do you?"

"But if I'm with you, you'll have an excellent reason not to let it get that bad. I'll take my chances." Her calm demeanor terrified him. How could anyone believe in him that much?

Sensing her determination, he finally capitulated. When he woke peacefully, hours later, he felt better than he had since facing an empty white wall at Canary Wharf. Briefly watching her snore, he acknowledged to himself the debt of gratitude he owed her. Quietly, he slid out of the bed.

Melissa woke to the smell of sausage, and dressed hurriedly before making her way to the kitchen. "Good morning!" the Doctor greeted her cheerfully, wearing a dark blue suit that she had not seen before.

"Good morning," she replied cautiously, wondering what he was up to. She was relieved to see that he finally looked well rested, however.

"I made breakfast," he told her unnecessarily as she looked at the platters of sausage, scrambled eggs, pancakes and fruit on the table. "Hope you're hungry."

"Starved," she assured him. Neither had eaten more than half a bowl of gumbo the night before. Deciding to make coffee before eating, Melissa carefully filled the pot with the French roast, and then took the maple syrup out of the refrigerator.

"Maple syrup! I love maple syrup. Do you know how much maple sap it takes to make just one quart of maple syrup?" the Doctor babbled.

"No, and you're not going to tell me until after we've both eaten," she replied firmly.

Abashed, he nodded, piling his plate high with pancakes, eggs and bacon. When he had finished that, he put half the platter of fruit on his plate and ate that as well. All the while, Melissa drank her coffee with chicory and watched him in undisguised awe. She had long since finished her more modest breakfast of a single pancake, one slice of bacon, and a small bowl of fruit.

"I like the suit by the way." His mouth full of a second helping of pancakes, he grinned in thanks. "Although the shoes are a little red, don't you think?"

Quickly washing down the pancakes with a glass of milk, he answered, slightly affronted. "What's wrong with red? Red and blue go perfectly well together, don't they?"

Melissa nodded with a teasing twinkle in her eye. "I'm sure you'll tell me that it's the height of fashion on some planet."

"Oi, cheeky, Ms. Morgan; for that, I should make you do the dishes." He began to put the meager leftovers in the refrigerator.

"We'll let the dishwasher do the dishes," she replied while arranging the platters on the bottom rack. "How about we take a walk? I need some exercise after that breakfast."

"Sounds lovely." The dishwasher now humming, Melissa struggled to reach the left sleeve to finish putting on her coat. "Here," The Doctor said as he held her coat so she could get her arm in the sleeve. Noticing her awkwardness, he asked, "What's wrong with your arm?"

"Broke my shoulder a few months ago. I slipped on some wet grass. Really stupid of me, I know." She was determined not to tell him that her injury had been the result of his opening the Void.

Sensing his concern, she quickly added, "I have pretty much full range of motion; didn't even need physical therapy. It just catches sometimes when I'm putting on my coat. If I would put my left arm through first, it probably wouldn't bother me, but old habits die hard." Accepting her explanation, the two walked out the door and headed towards the TARDIS.

The closer she got to the TARDIS, the worse her headache became. Once again, she had the sense that something was very, very wrong. Someone was hiding, watching, waiting, and it scared her. She had had this feeling off and on since right after Canary Wharf. Sternly, she tried to tell herself that she was merely imagining things. Yet the tension would not subside, and her headache was only getting worse. Deciding to ignore the pain, she hoped the Doctor would attribute her demeanor to the cold.

By the time she could see his ship, she could barely walk. The Doctor had stopped talking, watching her in concern, but Melissa didn't even notice. She was too focused on reaching the TARDIS. Absurdly, she felt that if she could just get inside the ship, she would be safe, away from prying eyes. Touching the wooden façade, her head exploded in pain and unintelligible images. As she pitched forward onto the ground, she knew that she was talking, screaming actually, but had no idea what she was saying.


	14. Accusations and Regrets

Waking to shouting was never pleasant, Melissa decided, especially when it felt like she had the mother of all hangovers. It was a chore to open her eyes, but she finally did in the hope that she could ask whoever was arguing to please keep it down. Groaning softly, she looked around until she saw Susan sitting next to her. Suddenly, she knew she was in the TARDIS infirmary; the chair Susan was sitting in still had the impression of the Doctor's hands on the metal armrest.

"What's the ruckus, Sue?"

"Um," her daughter stalled, trying to decide how much of the argument to share with her mother. "Matt's not happy with the Doctor at the moment, and I think he lost his temper."

Susan had been deliberately vague about which one had lost his temper, but Matthew's angry shouting made it quite clear.

"You're never here when we need you! Where were you when the Cybermen used some kind of magnet and tried to pull us out of the safe room? Mom was pinned to the door; she broke her shoulder! Where were you when those aliens attacked our school? You let Jack almost get killed; then you just left him after he saved your butt in the future! Why couldn't you save Rose? Let me tell you, getting stuck in a different universe sucks big time! She must hate you right now! Why can't you help Mom? You can't tell us that she's getting worse and just leave it like that! What are you good for, anyway?"

Melissa staggered to the kitchen, following the sound of her son's voice. She was afraid of the Doctor reaction to the boy's rant, and wanted to be there in case he needed protecting. She shouldn't have worried. When the Doctor looked at Matthew after the boy had finally finished, there was fire in his eyes, but he addressed her son quite calmly, although the tension in his voice was palpable.

"You are upset, and I am going to ignore what you just said to me because I care deeply for your mother, and don't want to upset her any more than necessary. However, your behavior is unacceptable, Matthew. I know you've lost your father and your home, but that does not give you the right to treat me, or anyone else, the way you just did. I think you should go back to the house and think about that for a while."

It looked like the teen was about to start another tirade when he caught sight of his mother. The disappointment evident on her face was enough to shame him, and he ducked awkwardly out of the room mumbling to himself. Too shocked to say anything, Melissa simply watched him leave. Susan, who was several feet farther down the hall, tried to give her brother a hug, but he just pushed away her hands and ran out of the ship. The door closed with a bang.

"I'm going back home to fix us some gumbo. Maybe eating something will help him." She looked apologetically at both her mother and the Doctor as she, too, left.

"Doctor, I'm sorry for the way Matthew behaved." Melissa wanted to take everything her son said back and leave it unsaid. It was so unfair to the man who had saved all their lives.

"Don't make excuses for him; it's not your place. Besides, I'm sure I deserved most of it."

He was still angry and attempting to control his emotions. With a sickening lurch, she realized that he was angry with himself. Surely, he didn't believe the twisted version of history that her son had shoved in his face?

Unexpectedly, he turned his full attention back to her. Snapping, he asked, "Now are you ready to start telling me the truth, or are you just going to continue to lie to me?"

As her head continued to pound, she gained another symptom to add to the hangover. Weakly she tried to make a joke out of it. "Can I be sick first?"

His annoyance instantly changed into concern as he held the kitchen trash can while she vomited what little was in her stomach. Marching her back to the infirmary, he picked up a few items from the drawers as she sat on the bed trying to will her hangover away.

"Here take this. It'll help your stomach and help you get some rest." Wordlessly, she obeyed, drinking the chalky liquid in one gulp. "Better?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Yes. You don't have anything in those drawers for my head do you?" Now that she wasn't nauseated, the pounding was harder to ignore.

"No, sleep's the best thing for that. Now, tell me exactly what your symptoms are. It's important, Melissa." He ran the sonic screwdriver over her head, slipping on his glasses and squinting at the results.

"I feel like I have a hangover, but I don't remember drinking anything. My head's just pounding, and the shouting was making it worse. I got up to try to get you all to keep it down. I didn't expect my son to go postal."

Paying no heed to her comment about Matthew, the Doctor asked, "What's the last thing you do remember?"

The sudden panic in her eyes told him as much as he needed to know, but she tried to answer the question anyway. "I woke up to screaming. You were having a nightmare. That's the last thing I remember, but that can't be the last thing, can it?"

"No, no it's not." Pulling off his glasses, he began to flip through pages of readouts that he must have taken while she was unconscious. Scowling at the papers, he put them to the side and sat next to her. With a sympathetic smile, he finally began to confess what he and Jack had learned the first time she entered the TARDIS. "Melissa, you're mind's unique."

"I'm well aware of that," she interrupted bitterly, not wanting another lecture.

"I don't think you are," he countered as he continued. "You see into other people's minds. You do it subconsciously, and you do it so well that even I don't know when you're there."

He didn't bother to tell her how much that had horrified him when he first realized what she was doing, or later, how much it had hurt hearing her relive some of his most painful memories.

"That's crazy! I wouldn't do something like that; it's sick!" Her head was splitting, and she didn't understand why the Doctor was telling her such horrible lies.

"You can't control it; it's not your fault," he told her gently as he laid her back on the pillows. "Maybe this isn't the best time; you should rest."

"No way are you going to tell me that I'm some brain sucking vampire and then tell me to rest!"

He ran his fingers through his hair, thinking. "Well, telling you now probably wasn't the brightest thing I've done. You do know I can be rude sometimes, don't you? I should have let you recover first."

"Too late now; you're going to have to explain yourself. I need to know why I'm two sandwiches short of a picnic." Oh God, she was a living member of the Twilight Zone.

Snorting in spite of himself, he reassured her. "You aren't crazy; I promise. You have a unique . . . ability." He was really going to have to come up with a better word.

"Don't you dare call me special," she snapped, and for an instant he wondered if she were reading his mind even then.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He smiled at her warmly, hating that he was upsetting her, but desperately needing to warn her. "Actually, I think we're losing the big picture here. I have no idea what causes you to do what you do. I can theorize it has something to do with your, ah, unusual brain structure."

Instantly grave, he admitted, "Melissa, I believe you were experimented on when you were a child. The man you say is your grandfather, the one that ran in your own words, 'a special school for special people', I think he caused this."

"What? That's ridiculous! Yes, Grandfather was cruel, but he never hurt me."

Gently, he reminded her, "You don't even know if he was your mother's or father's father. You don't remember the fire. You don't remember your parent's deaths."

Ignoring his logic, she desperately ranted, "Why can't you believe this is just some fun house mirror? Maybe everyone on my Earth has a brain like mine."

Hating to shred her argument to pieces, he nevertheless quietly answered, "Then your children's brains would look like yours, and they don't."

"Oh." She deflated. He wasn't simply telling her she was some freak; he was telling her someone created her to be a freak. It was a little much to accept.

Seeing her distress, he tried to allay her fears. "It doesn't matter. Whether you were born like this or someone made you this way, doesn't matter. You're still you, all strong and courageous and spirited. The problem is what happens while you are remembering snippets of someone else's life."

Again, he was serious, rapidly losing her in lecture mode. "The human brain isn't equipped to process that amount of new information in such a short amount of time. You compensate by using areas of your brain that are normally dormant in a human, but that causes flaring of electrical impulses in every lobe. When your brain activity reaches a critical point, your mind starts to shut down, and you lose consciousness. It's simply your body's way of protecting you, but reaching that point is dangerous. The longer the spike in brain activity, the more likely your mind won't recover."

His explanation finished, he watched her stare unblinking at the ceiling. "Melissa?"

Counting the tiles, she idly wondered why the TARDIS had chosen to have a conventional ceiling in the infirmary when much of the ship was made up of vaulted coral. Maybe it was to make the sick and afflicted more at ease, and maybe she was again avoiding things. Finally, she looked at the Doctor, who was waiting patiently for her reaction.

"So, I'm a walking time bomb."

"Well," he drawled, stalling for time. "According to your children, your blackouts are getting more frequent. I won't lie to you and tell you that's not troubling. However, the headaches you get before you blackout are a warning. If you can distract yourself somehow before the headache gets too bad, you should be able to interrupt the electrical impulses before they become too dangerous. Remember when Rose touched you and you passed out? That might have just saved your life."

"Oh, good, a time bomb with an off switch."

"More like a pause button," he conceded. Suddenly, the grief and despair of losing Rose overwhelmed him. "Your son's right, I'm not good for anything. I couldn't save Rose; I can't make you better, and it breaks my hearts to see you suffer while you remember the horrible things I've done. After you've rested, I'm going to leave. At least you won't have to pick things out of my head."

She knew he was serious because he was at the door in four long strides, intending to let her sleep.

"Don't do this to me," she begged, bursting into tears. "You're not the cause of this. You know that! I don't know what I said to upset you so much because I don't remember it. And I'm sorry; I'm really, really sorry. I know your nightmares are horrible, and I would never want to dredge up another one, but I'm so scared right now, and you think you're trying to protect me by leaving, but I feel so alone, and I can't take it. Please, Doctor, please don't run away from me." Her fear was making her almost hysterical, and she sobbed uncontrollably, curling into a tight ball on the bed.

He was at her side in an instant, patting her back and cursing himself for being both a coward and incredibly cruel. "I would never run away from you," he reassured her. "I made a promise a long time ago, and I intend to keep it." He sat next to her until the sedative he had given her with the nausea medication took effect, and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor was performing routine maintenance on the TARDIS when Matthew knocked loudly on the door. Banging his head in his haste to get up, he pushed the outer door open. "Hello, Matthew. I didn't expect to see you this soon." It had only been three hours since the teen had stormed out of the ship.

"Where's Mom?" the boy asked gruffly, not quite ready to make the apology he had every intention of making.

"She's still in the infirmary sleeping. If you're intent on yelling at me some more, perhaps you should do it outside. She could use the rest." The Doctor wiped some grease off his hands, seemingly untroubled by Matthew's presence.

"I wasn't planning on yelling again," the teen replied sullenly. "I just thought that, well, maybe I owed you an apology."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, well, I said some things that were pretty ugly, and I guess I wanted to say sorry. It's not your fault that Mom is having all these blackouts. She has them when you're not here, too." Arms crossed defensively in front of him, he looked down at his tennis shoes, up to the ceiling, anywhere but at the Doctor. Pausing, he shuffled around, gathering his courage to finish. "And, um, I'm really sorry I said anything about Rose. That was way out of line, and by then I just wanted to hurt you."

"It wasn't the nicest thing anyone's every said about me," the Doctor conceded, noting that Matthew had not apologized for anything he had said about his treatment of Jack. "Still, I've heard a lot worse," he added evenly, determined not to let the boy know just how much that comment had hurt him.

Finally, Matthew looked at him. "Like I said, sorry."

"Apology accepted." Grinning, he offered, "How would you like to help me oil the crystal connectors while we wait for your mother to wake up?"

His awkwardness around the Doctor quickly forgotten, Matthew agreed enthusiastically. When Melissa finally woke up two hours later, she found her son covered in oil, lying underneath the grating of the control room. The Doctor was watching him with an amused expression on his face as he once again checked the parking brake.

"That shirt's going to be ruined," she said ruefully as the Doctor and Matthew scrambled to their feet.

"Oh, but it was so cool under there! It's worth a ton of shirts, Mom!" he enthusiastically protested, wiping his dirty hands on his jeans.

"I guess enjoying greasy engine repairs is a guy thing," she teased, glad to see that the Doctor had allowed Matthew to work on the TARDIS.

"It's a mechanic thing," the Doctor corrected cheerfully. "And Matthew has quite an aptitude for it."

"Thanks," the teen replied, embarrassed. "Um, Mom, I've already told the Doctor I'm sorry, but I guess I owe you an apology, too. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. I know it's unacceptable behavior, and I'll try to do better."

Wondering what her son was talking about, she remained noncommittal for fear of upsetting him. "No problem, Matt." She glanced at the Doctor and saw that he was looking shrewdly at her. He knew that she was clueless, and it made her uneasy.

"Now that your mother's awake, maybe we could all go out for dinner. Why don't you and your sister get ready, and we'll meet you in a bit. I'm sure your mum wants to change."

Patting Matthew on the shoulder, he thanked him for all his help. "I meant what I said about you having a mechanical aptitude, Matthew. I hope you can use your abilities in whatever you decide to study." Suddenly switching topics, he asked, "Is that Mexican restaurant still open? Their pork tamales were muy bueno."

"Mexican sounds a lot better than the raw corn I ate last night!" I'll go tell Susan we're all going out to eat. See you in a bit!" Matthew jogged out of the TARDIS, happy that the Doctor had forgiven him and relieved that his mother had not grounded him for a month.

"You going to tell me what that was about?" Melissa asked the Doctor as her son left.

Rubbing the back of his neck, the Doctor quickly decided that he would not make the same mistake twice. "You had a migraine. Matthew blamed me for not being able to help you, and said a few things that he now regrets."

"He yelled at you before I passed out?" Melissa was confused; the Doctor's explanation wasn't making perfect sense. He was leaving something out.

"Um, no. When you woke up, you still had a headache, and took a nap to try to make it go away. It seems you've forgotten what happened between losing consciousness and sleeping again. Has that ever happened before?" How close had she come to permanently injuring her mind? Her brain activity had spiked for thirteen point two minutes, much longer than he had noted on previous visits.

"Oh, goody, that's a new symptom," she answered sarcastically. The fear in her voice was apparent when she continued, however. "How dangerous is all this? Ever since the invasion, I've felt different, almost like I'm being stalked. Am I going crazy?"

"No, I can assure you that you are not going crazy."

Deciding not to upset her twice, he did not attempt to explain her abilities yet again. Pacing around the console, he did try to warn her, however. "Melissa, I don't think you should ignore your headaches any longer. I told you they were dangerous when we first met, and they still are. When you start to get one, just go lie down for a while. Try not to ignore the pain. You were hurting long before we got to the TARDIS, weren't you?"

Still fearful, she admitted, "I don't remember going to the TARDIS. I don't remember anything since, well, since your nightmare. I'm sorry. Suddenly, the image of him screaming under the desk overwhelmed her. "Are you okay? It looked like you were having a rough time of it last night."

He smiled at her, and for once she was fooled by his performance. "I'm fine. Really, I am. I'm sorry you don't remember, but you gave me some very wise advice, and I am very thankful the TARDIS brought me here."

"She knows what's best, don't you girl?" Melissa stroked one of the coral struts, pleased to feel a pleasant thrum under her fingertips. Turning back to the Doctor, she smiled. "She likes me."

"'Course she does. What's not to like?" Throwing the oily rag on the console, he added, "I'd best wash up before we go out. Don't want to eat tamales with engine grease on my hands. There's a bag in the infirmary with some of your clothes if you don't want to use the wardrobe."

"Like the new suit, by the way," she called out as she walked to the infirmary to change clothes.

Fifteen minutes later, they were both ready to go. Dinner was pleasant because the Doctor made it so. He acted like his old self, even though Matthew's rant was constantly in his mind. Could he have saved Rose? Had he done everything he could do to help Melissa? Maybe he should have told her what she was capable of, again. Whatever he decided, he knew it was time to leave in the morning. He couldn't stay here, not with Matthew's accusations, made all the worse because they were only too true. He was worthless to them.

Fighting another nightmare, the Doctor woke up in the guest bedroom at three in the morning. Going into the kitchen to put the kettle on, he wondered if it would be better to leave now, without all the goodbyes. Coward, he thought bitterly as he let the tea bag steep in his cup.

"Is the water still hot?" He stiffened at the sound of Melissa's voice and merely nodded, watching her fix a cup of hot chocolate as he sat pensively at the kitchen table. She vigorously stirred her drink and then she, too, sat down.

"You're leaving." It wasn't a question; she knew him too well for that.

"Same old life. Can't stay in one spot for long." Taking a sip of tea, he added seriously, "I've got to go." She nodded, concentrating on drinking her hot chocolate before it became lukewarm.

Desperately wanting to help her in some way, he once again made her an offer. "I could still look in your mind, you know. If we could find what triggers your headaches, it may be easier for you to avoid it."

Running her finger along the rim of her cup, she once again refused. "I know you mean well, and I trust you, really I do, but looking into other people's minds seems like such a violation. There are so many dark things in my head. I wouldn't want you to see all that." She added quietly, "I wouldn't want you to judge me for the things I've done and the thoughts I've had.

He decided not to press her. "I would never judge you, you know. If you ever decide to change your mind, I still think it's a worthwhile avenue to explore."

"Maybe another time. You are going to come back sometime aren't you?"

"I'm sure you'll see me again. The TARDIS seems to like it here," he allowed with a small smile, wishing not for the first time that his ship would stop meddling in his life.

Relieved, she smiled back. He still looked like he had been through hell, but least he was not running away from them permanently. "If you don't mind, I'm going to try to go back to sleep. I can't exist on a few hours every few days like you can. Lock the door when you leave, okay?" She gave him a tight hug, hating goodbyes almost as much as he did.

He watched her walk back to her bedroom, and then put his empty cup in the sink. His coat was on and he was halfway to the door when she suddenly reappeared.

"I just have to ask you one thing. If Rose suddenly appeared, and it had been a long time for you, would you still want to see her, even if you've moved on?"

"Blimey, Melissa, that's a lot of ifs, and I know Rose can't get back, so I don't know how to answer that." He really didn't understand what she was trying to ask.

"I just, well, if you had someone in your past and they showed up, would you be happy about it?"

He thought for a moment, seriously considering her question. "I would always be glad to see an old friend, even if I had, as you said, moved on. Why?"

She didn't answer him, but gave him another hug. "Au revoir, Doctor."

"Au revoir, Melissa," he replied as he slipped out the door.

Sitting blearily at the kitchen table, she was already regretting her decision not to tell the Doctor again about Major Marshall and his increasingly frightening behavior. But, her friend didn't need the trouble, not now, not when he was so torn up after losing Rose. There was no telling what he might do. The threats the man had made several months ago still terrified her, however, and she knew she needed help.

Finally getting enough courage to act on the decision she had made weeks ago, she sat down in front of the computer in her office. It took only a few minutes to purchase three tickets to Cardiff. Now, she just had to pack and find a plausible excuse for the kids.


	15. Retcon and Reunions

Author's Notes: I meant to post this earlier, but I've been having problems with the site, or my computer. I'm not sure which. Thanks for reading.

* * *

><p>An insistent knocking on the door woke Melissa up. Disoriented, she found a robe on the bed, put it on, and answered the door. A hotel concierge handed her a large manila envelope. Seeing her look of confusion, he said, "Ms. Morgan, sorry to wake you, but you did ask me to deliver this to room promptly at six, no matter what."<p>

"Of course," she answered, trying to look like she knew what was going on. She hadn't even realized she was in a hotel until she opened the door. "Um, let me just get you something," she began, walking back towards the bed.

"No need, ma'am," he answered. "You gave me a very nice tip yesterday. That must have been quite a party you were at last night! Hope your conference goes well." With that, he turned around and walked down the hall.

She quickly closed the door and sank to the floor. Where was she? The guy at the door had a definite accent. What was going on? Opening the envelope, she saw a disc and a note written in her own hand that said, 'play the disc, stupid'.

Quickly finding her laptop, she booted up the system and inserted the disc. Surprisingly, it was a video of herself. She listened in quiet disbelief.

"If you are seeing this and don't have a clue what it is, then you are stupid, stupid, stupid," she told herself. "You are in the Holiday Inn in Cardiff, Wales, and have decided to track down Jack. Captain Jack Harkness, if your brain has been so screwed up that you don't remember Jack at all. Jack works for Torchwood, remember? TORCHWOOD, TORCHWOOD, TORCHWOOD. Remember yet? It's a super secret organization that specializes in fighting aliens, and Jack's been running the branch in Cardiff since 2000. Time travel, don't ask me to explain it. Now, if you finally remember, you really need to decide if this little trip is worth a second shot. Sarah Jane doesn't know what two doses of that drug retcon will do, so if you tempt fate again, you might not remember anything. And where would that leave the kids? By the way, they're in room 304, and have no idea that this is anything more than a tourist trip through the UK and a chance for you and Sarah Jane to meet in person. Let's try to leave it that way, okay? They're expecting you at breakfast at 7:30; their tour of Stonehenge leaves at 8:00, so hustle!"

Her video self paused long enough that Melissa thought that was the end, but then her image continued in a more thoughtful tone, "Okay, we both know that you're going to try again, so try to be a little sneakier this time. The front entrance obviously didn't work. Find the sinking stone and give it a go. Just, remember, it's been a lot longer for Jack than it has been for you. He might not be the same man you, well, you know . . . . Good luck."

She sat next to the little table, unmoving, for several minutes. The haze was slowly lifting from her brain, and she began to remember her actions of the previous afternoon. They had settled into the hotel, and the kids decided to go to sleep early to get over their jet lag. She had slept well on the plane, so as soon as they were in their room, she had left in search of Torchwood and Jack. There was a little-used tourist office nearby, just as Sarah Jane had said there would be, and she had pushed the door open with more than a small amount of trepidation, and . . . Think, think, why couldn't she think?

Taking a few deep breaths, she remembered what had happened. There had been a young man, a good-looking young man in a suit, standing behind the counter. He had offered her some brochures for Cardiff Castle, but then she had requested to see Captain Jack Harkness. He had said that there was no Jack Harkness working at the tourist office. Right, she had agreed, Jack works for Torchwood, and could you please tell him that Melissa was here to see him? The man had smiled, agreeing to call Jack, and offered her a nice cup of tea while she was waiting, and . . .

And, that's the last thing she remembered until the concierge woke her up this morning. The drug had obviously been in the tea. She really was stupid, wasn't she? She doubted the suit man had even contacted Jack before drugging her. At least, she hoped Jack hadn't authorized her memory loss. If he had, then returning today would not be the best of ideas, but for her peace of mind it had to be done. Throwing on the same clothes she wore yesterday, she went downstairs to meet her children for breakfast.

"Hey, Mom!" Matthew called across the restaurant. "They've got baked beans on the breakfast buffet! How weird is that?"

"Shh!" Susan warned, "You're being rude. That's what people over here eat. It's not weird to them."

"Sorry," he said, adding with a smirk, "you can eat as much of them as you like."

"I'm not gonna, that would be . . ."

"Weird?" Melissa finished for her daughter as she wearily sat down at the table.

"No," Susan back-pedaled. "I mean, it's not something I'm used to, that's all; so I think I'll stick to the yoghurt."

"Ready for your tour?" Melissa asked.

"Backpack all packed, Mom," Matthew assured her. "You sure you don't want to come?"

"Maybe next time."

"Are you sure you're alright, Mom?" Susan asked with concern. You look like you can barely keep your eyes open and you're slurring your words."

"Jet lag. Take a nap after breakfast. Sarah Jane and I are going to dinner tonight. You sure you don't mind being on your own?" She desperately hoped they would say no. All she wanted to do right now was to get through breakfast and go back to bed.

"As long as you come next time," Susan reassured her. "So you finally get to meet Sarah Jane in person. I wonder what she looks like."

"Let you know tomorrow." Melissa lied easily. There was no meeting with Sarah Jane. She was going to find Jack today, one way or another. "Now, do I get a hug?"

After hugging their mother self-consciously, Matthew and Susan left with the rest of the tour group. Melissa noticed that they were the youngest people on the tour by a good forty years. Well, at least that meant they would be on their best behavior. She decided to have another cup of coffee before heading back to her room.

Whatever was in the drug she took last night, it was still making her extremely groggy. At least she hadn't been allergic to it; that would have been unpleasant, not to mention dangerous. She idly wondered what would have happened if she had had a reaction. Would the man in the suit have helped her, or just left her to die? No sense in being morbid, she decided as she flopped on the bed, still in her clothes.

She spent much of the day in her hotel room with the Do Not Disturb sign hanging from her door. She was more than slightly alarmed to find that her nap after breakfast lasted six hours. Surely the drug didn't affect people that badly, or else someone would have noticed that they had been sedated. Maybe she was having some sort of reaction-best not to try it twice. She made another recording of herself, finding a different concierge to give it to. This time she tipped the man fifty pounds and impressed upon him that he held a backup copy of some very sensitive corporate documents. He had promised to deliver it to her door the next morning himself.

After a few hours of pretending to read, and twenty minutes of pacing, she decided it was time to get dressed. What does one wear to infiltrate a secret organization? She decided that she would dress to impress, putting on her new black suit with the plunging neckline. Maybe Jack would be too busy looking at her cleavage to question exactly how she had found him. Just in case things did not go well, she wore her flats instead of her heels. She had learned one thing from Rose-when in doubt, prepare for running. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse and headed towards the Millennium Center.

Melissa walked past the Millennium Center and into the nearby car park. There she came across a black SUV that actually had the word Torchwood emblazoned on the side. So much for being a super secret organization. There were also four other cars parked next to the SUV. Mentally noting the make and model of each, she quickly left. It would be a bad idea to be caught lurking near Torchwood employee parking. Finding a coffee shop where she could watch the exit, she ordered a cup of strong, black coffee, and waited.

It was 6:30 PM by the time she saw the first car leave. A young, harried looking Asian woman was driving rather quickly towards the main road. One down, three to go. It was almost a half hour later when she saw the next car exit. Inside was the suit-man. The coffee shop was closing in a few minutes, so she would lose her observation perch, but at least half the operatives had gone home for the evening. She really couldn't be sure that the other two didn't work a night shift, and Sarah Jane said Jack actually lived in the base, so she may not get a better chance. It was time to go find the sinking stone listed in the UNIT reports.

UNIT had reported that the stone was near the waterfall, but hadn't been specific as to its location. Melissa tried to appear to be a harmless tourist wandering in the dark, and hoped that her actions did not trip some sort of proximity alarm. It took several minutes of slow searching to find the right spot, but she knew she had found it when she felt a strange tingling in the back of her neck. Wishing she had some ruby slippers she could click, she concentrated, and slowly, the stone began to sink.

The ride down was surprisingly smooth, and she was able to take in some incredible sights as she peered into Torchwood III headquarters. A pterodactyl swooped past her, surprising her so much that she almost fell off the lift. The water fountain continued right to the bottom of the base, although she knew it wasn't a water fountain at this level. The UNIT files had called it a rift manipulator. The files detailed the effects of a rift in time and space running through Cardiff. Space junk and even people were spat out of the rift on a completely unpredictable basis, although they all came from this universe as far as anyone knew.

As the stone finished its descent, the base itself seemed to be empty. Maybe they had all gone out for dinner. She could wait for Jack and figure out exactly what she was going to say to him. I missed you sounded rather lame to her ears, and I need you to promise to take care of my kids if I die sounded much too dramatic. But they were both the truth, and the only thing she had come up with so far.

Her luck ran out as soon as the stone stopped moving. She stood absolutely still as three guns pointed at her from three different directions. Turning slightly to face Jack, she heard him bark, "Reveal yourself or you will be shot!"

Not quite understanding what he was demanding, she put a brave smile on her face and said, "Hi, Jack. Thought I'd come see where you work."

She froze in shock as he surged forward to press his gun against her temple. "Show me your true form!"

"Jack, it's me, Melissa. Put the gun down, please." She suddenly realized that getting another dose of retcon was the least of her worries.

"Show your true form!" he again demanded.

"Jack, what's going on here?" a woman with long black hair and gap teeth demanded.

"Somebody's getting into my head and trying to play tricks. Well, you didn't choose very wisely, whatever you are. There are lots better people you could have used. I haven't seen her in ages, and she wasn't even that good of a fuck!"

"Thanks for that, Jack." It was absurd, she knew, to be angry in a situation where she could easily get killed, but he had just humiliated her in front of two of his subordinates.

"I tell you what, Mate," a thin-lipped man offered reasonably, "I'd change back if I were you. He'll shoot you if you don't."

"This is my true form!" she shouted. "It's me, Jack. I came looking for you. I love you, you stupid ape!" Oh yeah, that was going to go over well.

The Captain took a step back and carefully aimed his gun. When he spoke, he no longer raged at her, but his voice was forceful and dripped with sarcasm. "I'll admit I'm impressed that you can get into my head. Not many things can, these days. But I'm losing my patience. Tell me what the fuck you want, so I can say no and shoot you."

Anger boiled inside her. She was angry that he hadn't come to Colorado the day after his younger self left. She was angry that he obviously didn't care for her the way she cared for him. She was angry at herself for being naively stupid, but most of all she was livid that he worked for Torchwood.

Something snapped, and she decided that she wasn't going to die whimpering for her life. "I came because I missed you, you stupid ape! And what I need from you you're obviously incapable of providing! Because you have to work for got damn Torchwood, don't you Jack? If it's alien, it's ours; isn't that your motto? Aren't you going to tell your two underlings that I'm the most alien thing they'll ever see? After all, I don't even belong in this universe!"

Tears were streaming down her face as she continued. "Well, let me tell you what your precious Torchwood did. It destroyed the only two friends I had. Rose is gone because of Torchwood! You remember her, don't you, Jack? I thought you cared for her once. And Torchwood might as well have put a bullet through **his** head! It might have been kinder. I tried to pick up the pieces, but you can only put something back together that's been broken so many times. You know how much he's lost! So you tell me, Jack Harkness. You look right into my eyes and tell me! Tell me there wasn't anything you could have done to prevent Canary Wharf! Tell me there was nothing you could have done to save Rose Tyler!"

He rocked back like he had been punched in the gut, looking intently at the woman before him. Her cheeks were as red as her hair, tears were streaming down her face, and he could see the hurt in her pained emerald eyes.

"Melissa?" he croaked as he threw the gun down and wrapped her in a hug. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry. I couldn't do anything. I tried. Oh, God, Melissa."

They were both crying, while Gwen and Owen stood uncertainly. Their guns still pointed towards the lift, but they were not actively targeting the Captain and the strange woman.

Concerned, Gwen asked, "What are you doing, Jack? I thought you said she was a threat?"

The Captain turned around, still holding Melissa close to his chest. Why did Gwen and Owen have to witness that? Shit, he had called Melissa a bad fuck in front of two members of his team. And, she had practically accused him of being responsible for Canary Wharf. At least Owen knew the truth of that, but Gwen would be full of questions. He definitely needed some privacy if he was going to sort this out.

"I was wrong," he said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Now, get out, both of you. I want you out of the Hub in two minutes. Tell Toshiko and Ianto to stay out, too. I'll call you when you can come back."

"Not going to happen, Captain," Owen countered as Gwen simply stared. "Two minutes ago you were sure she was some shape-shifting, telepathic alien. We are not going to let you alone in the Hub with her."

"Fine," Jack spat out, "we're leaving." He took his coat, and with Melissa still wrapped protectively in his arm, headed towards the door.

Just as the door was rolling away, Owen called out viciously, "Let us know if she's a better fuck than you remembered."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack idly ran his fingers across Melissa's hair. She was sleeping soundly now. God, she looked so beautiful, even while snoring. They had gone back to her hotel room and ordered dinner. Neither one of them had wanted to talk much at first; they had both said some truly hateful things. Jack began the apologies, and she accepted, although she suggested he keep the sexual scorecard to himself in the future.

Then she apologized. She had lost her temper and didn't mean to accuse him of complicity in Canary Wharf. She knew he would have stopped it if he could have. By unspoken agreement they had not mentioned the Doctor or Rose. That subject was still too painful for both of them.

It was inevitable, really, that they had ended up in bed. Apologies had been made and accepted, but their wounds were deep enough that they needed to prove their forgiveness through actions. Once together, it was as if they had never been separated, and he experienced a strange feeling of déjà vu. He had never made love to the same person over a hundred years apart. It was an interesting experience.

Melissa had been sleeping for almost two hours when there was a knock at the door. Jack would have ignored it, but whoever was standing outside continued to knock, and he did not want her to wake up just yet. He found the generic white robe the hotel provided, slipped it on, and opened the door a crack. A concierge stood outside the door, looking sheepish and holding an envelope. "Excuse me, sir, but I was instructed to give this envelope to Ms. Morgan."

Smiling his most charming smile, he replied, "I'll see that she gets it. Long night, you understand."

"Certainly, sir," the concierge answered with a wink.

Closing the door softly behind him, he considered the envelope. He really shouldn't go through her things, but curiosity prevailed. Turning on a small lamp, he quietly sat in the chair at the far corner of the room and opened the envelope. There was a disc with a note that read, 'Play the disc, stupid'. Now, that was intriguing, and impossible to resist. Seeing that Melissa still slept soundly, he found her laptop and loaded the disc.

She was sitting in the very same spot Jack was now sitting, wearing pajamas, looking both nervous and tired. "Well, I guess being drugged twice didn't kill me," she began, "although I still feel groggy from yesterday, so no telling how I'll do today."

Rubbing her hand on her forehead, she continued, "You are stupid for letting yourself be drugged twice, and obviously stupid for trying to find Jack. Oh, this is getting old. Jack Harkness. Torchwood. Remember? You better remember soon, because it's time to get the hell out of here while you still can. Take the kids and go back to Colorado and forget about Jack. Let him sort out his problems on his own. It's obvious he doesn't care about you anymore, and you can't imagine what he's been through in all those years, so just let him go. I am such an idiot, but it's time to act like an adult and not some hormonal teenager. If he did this to me again, then maybe it's better if the kids are on their own. They're almost grown; just another couple of years and it won't matter."

The Melissa on the recording paused, and Jack noticed that she was trying not to cry. "Remember, Susan and Matthew are expecting you at breakfast at 7:00. If you know what's good for you, you'll take the tour of Brecon Beacons with them and leave on tonight's train. Okay, I know how crazy I must be. If you're really going to try three strikes and you're out, you need to at least call Sarah Jane and tell her where the kids are. They don't have anyone if something happens, and I can't believe how selfish I'm acting. Fine, on your own head be it."

Well, that was interesting, he thought. He was going to have to have a long talk with Ianto about retconning people without clearance. She could have died in Cardiff before he even knew she was there. He was also most impressed that she had thought to make a recording beforehand reminding herself about him and Torchwood. No one had tried that one before, and giving it to a hotel employee had been a touch of genius. They wouldn't have found it even if they had done a search of the room.

It was also obvious that she had never forgotten him. True, it had been a much shorter amount of time for her, but she had been willing to put herself at risk just to see him. And, she had brought the kids with her. It hadn't come up last night, but then, they had only spoken long enough to apologize. They had been playing catch-up in other ways for the rest of the evening and most of the early morning. Glancing at his watch, Jack saw that he had twenty-five minutes to get showered and meet Susan and Matthew for breakfast. Just one thing on the recording bothered him. What the hell did she mean about the kids being on their own?

Laying a note on the pillow beside her, he slipped out the door. He was looking forward to seeing the twins. He remembered how argumentative and just plain funny they had been.

The seating area of the restaurant was crowded, and it took a moment for Jack to find Susan and Matthew among the other diners. They were sitting at a table in the back, and he took some time to study them. The changes he saw amazed him. Susan had emerged as a stunning beauty with the same hair and coloring of her mother, but with the height of a model. She also had some nice curves, and he wondered if she left a trail of broken hearts in her wake. Matthew no longer looked like a scarecrow of awkward angles. He now had the body of an athlete, and had wisely chosen to wear contacts instead of thick glasses.

Before he could make his way to the table, Susan squealed, and grabbing her brother's arm, ran up to Jack and embraced him in a tight hug.

"Captain Jack! I can't believe it's you! It's so good to see you!" she babbled as Jack returned the sudden three-way hug. The other diners were staring at the scene, but he didn't care. It felt so good to be welcomed by people who knew him, who welcomed him not because they wanted something, but simply because they were glad to see him.

"Hi ya, kids," he laughed, feeling free in a way he hadn't in years. "I'm starved; how about I join you for breakfast?"

"Dad," Matthew exclaimed excitedly as the three sat down at the table, "Mom's going to be so surprised to see you!"

Jack grinned sheepishly, and Susan, laughed, saying, "I think Mama's already seen him, Matt. She had dinner with you last night and not Sarah Jane, didn't she?"

"Then why didn't she invite us?" Matthew blurted, before blushing deeply and continuing. "Oh, I mean, oh, it really is good to see you, Dad." He laughed as Jack tried to hide his own embarrassment

Grinning, Jack replied, "It's good to see you, son."

"You two are just plain weird," Susan commented. Hesitantly she asked, "Is Mama coming down for breakfast?"

Oh, the awkwardness of the teenage years. Jack tried not to smile too much as he answered. Reminding himself that it must be very difficult to think of your mother having sex, he declared, "I think your mom's very tired and still sleeping. We talked until very late last night, but she wanted me to meet you this morning."

"I'm so excited she did!" Susan exclaimed. "We have so much catching up to do!"

"Let's catch up after we get our plates," Matthew suggested. "I don't know about you two, but I'm starving!"

"You would be," Susan sniped, but they all trooped to the breakfast buffet and filled their plates.

"So," Jack started between bites, "Give me the scoop. Tell me how your mom's really doing. How are her headaches?"

"She's been doing okay." The young man shrugged, "She still gets headaches a lot. She got kicked out of the PTA, though. That was the Doctor's fault. He always causes trouble when he's here. You know, she made him go looking for you."

"Matt!" Susan hissed, "We're not supposed to talk about that!"

"What?" he challenged, "It's not like he's going to tell Mom, are you, Dad?"

Jack used every trick he had learned in his long life to show no shock at what the teen had said, although he was so flustered that it didn't even register that Matthew had called him Dad once again. He carefully schooled his features to reflect only good-natured neutrality.

"Everyone's got their secrets, especially teenagers. And, no, I won't be telling your mom any tales."

He smiled to let them know he meant it, and went back to eating for a few minutes. "So," he finally stated as casually as he could, his heart pounding in his chest, "The Doctor show up at your house often?"

"Only three times, although we weren't there the first time. He didn't stay long. That's the time Mama convinced him to find you and bring you back. She told us the TARDIS wouldn't let him go back to the right time, and you were gone when he was able to land," Susan confided.

The teen must have decided to trust him to keep their secrets because she continued conspiratorially. "The next time he came, he was with Rose and some guy named Mickey. We all went camping at Rocky Mountain National Park. We had a good time, even if we did have to apologize to Mickey about pretending to be a bear."

"Yeah, I think we took that a little too far," Matthew interrupted.

Changing the subject, Susan commented, "You must have been really far away to take two and a half years to come back. Can you come with us on our tour?"

"I'm not going on the tour until I get some more food. Anybody else coming with me?" Matthew asked.

Jack shook his head; his stomach was churning uncomfortably after listening to the kids' tale. Susan simply said, "Not all of us have two stomachs like you obviously have, Bro."

Watching Matthew leave, Susan turned back to the Captain and repeated her question. "Can you come with us? Yesterday, there were only old folks on the tour besides us. It was a drag, although Stonehenge was cool."

"I promised I'd show your mom where I work," he lied swiftly, his thoughts churning.

"Where's that?" she asked eagerly.

"I run the tourist office downtown. A quiet job, but I get to use my charm and good looks, so it's not bad." Giving her a self-deprecating smile, he quickly scanned the dining area to make sure none of his team had followed him.

Sipping his coffee, he watched her lick yoghurt off her spoon. Like a junkie addicted to crack, he could not get the Doctor out of his mind. "I hope you didn't get in too much trouble with the Doctor when you were teasing Rose's ex-boyfriend."

"He was her boyfriend? No way! No wonder he acted like such an a-hole. He must have felt like a third wheel with those two. They were so into each other on that camping trip they didn't notice anyone else."

Jack pretended to watch Matthew at the buffet as he controlled his features. At least Rose had been happy near the end of her life. What a waste, for both of them. He remembered how devastated the Time Lord had been on the Gamestation when he thought Rose dead. He couldn't imagine what the Doctor was feeling now.

As Matthew sat down with another full plate, Jack prodded, "You said he's visited three times?"

Both teenagers squirmed a little in their seats. "Yeah," Susan answered quietly, "the last time wasn't so fun."

As he raised an eyebrow, the twins passed a look between them. Susan must have been appointed spokesperson, because she continued somberly. "We came home from the New Year's lock-in last week, and he was just standing there. Mama told us that he had just lost Rose and asked us to give him some space. We stayed at a friend's house for the most part. We went to sleep one night and he was gone the next morning."

Jack really, really wished he hadn't asked. He felt sick and guilty. For over a hundred years he had been waiting to reunite with the Doctor. He always planned on punching the Time Lord, hard, in the jaw, but had never dreamed of hurting him any more than that. Truth be told, his fantasies started with the Doctor apologizing, some fantastic make-up sex, and ended with him happily back in the TARDIS continuing his travels in time and space, Melissa in tow. Well, it had been a good fantasy. When he saw Rose's name on the list of the dead from Canary Wharf, he had locked himself inside his office for hours, staring at nothing.

"I'm sure the Doctor appreciated you trying to help," was all he managed to get out of his mouth. He put sugar and cream into his coffee just to give his hands something to do. He certainly wasn't up to drinking it anymore.

"Crap! Oh, sorry," Matthew started. "I forgot the backpack and we have to be on the bus in ten minutes."

"Matt, why do you have to be so irresponsible?" Susan bossily demanded.

"Hey, you could have gotten it yourself," he argued.

"Kids, why don't you both go get it? We can all go out to dinner when you get back, how about that?" Jack asked. He wanted them far away when he and Melissa sat down for some serious conversation, and the tour seemed like the perfect opportunity.

"Okay," they both replied happily, and walked out of the restaurant still bickering over who was going to carry the backpack today.

Jack took the opportunity to walk outside; he needed some fresh air. He also needed to call his team and let them know he hadn't been kidnapped. They weren't going to like the fact that he would be taking the day off—too bad for them. He hadn't taken a vacation day in several years, and he had plenty of time accrued, so it really didn't matter what they thought. Besides, he was the boss; it wasn't any of their business.

Thankfully it was Tosh who answered the phone. He really didn't think he could take talking to Owen right now. Owen and Gwen must have filled Tosh in on the events of last night, however. When he mentioned taking the day off, Gwen was suddenly on the line, asking him if he thought that was such a good idea.

"She's a friend, Gwen, a very good friend," he found himself replying when Gwen continued to ask him who Melissa was. "That was a mistake. I didn't know she knew where to find me, so I thought the worst." Couldn't Gwen just stop asking questions for once?

"Yes, she's human! I told you I made a mistake. No, I don't know how she found us." Shit, this was getting to be a full-fledged interrogation. "She and I need to talk . . . . That's none of your business . . . . Look, I'll bring her by the Hub later if it would make you feel better. Just make sure Owen is on his best behavior, or better yet, out."

He could tell that he had finally won her over. "Fine, call me if you need me."

Taking a deep breath, he watched Susan and Matthew get onto the tour bus. Everyone else, including the tour guide, was definitely a senior citizen. He hoped they weren't too bored today, but he was very glad that they weren't going to be here. After making sure the bus left, he slowly walked back to Melissa's room.

She was still sleeping. Taking off his clothes, he decided to lie down beside her. She was warm and comforting as his mind raced with questions. Finally, he closed his eyes and relaxed. Maybe sleeping beside her would keep some of his nightmares at bay.

Two hours later, Melissa stretched awake to find Jack nuzzling at her neck. "How are you feeling?" he asked as she turned to face him.

"Sore in places I haven't been sore in years," she replied grinning. "I may need to take up yoga; think I need to be more flexible."

"Melissa, you haven't been celibate since I left, have you?" he asked, shocked. It was still difficult to think in terms of twentieth century morality, even after living through the entire century.

"Jack, it's only been a couple of years for me. Besides, I've been waiting for the best," she responded simply, not daring to ask if he considered them to still be married.

"You've got that right!" he agreed, running his hand lightly down her chest. "Care to make up for lost time?"

"Jack," she admonished, as she thrilled to the attention her body was receiving. "I'm starving and need a shower. And we really need to talk."

"Talk is good," he whispered as he began to follow his hands with his lips.

"God," she groaned as his hands and mouth dropped ever lower on her body. "At least let me put some toothpaste in my mouth. I'll be right back."

Grinning, he watched the goose pimples on her naked flesh as she entered the bathroom. Yes, they needed to talk, but it could wait a few hours.


	16. Torchwood

Melissa finally got her shower, although lunch had been much later than she'd planned. Jack had taken her to an unassuming cafe far from the Plass, but the food was delicious and the owner was obviously someone he knew well. They'd made small talk as they ate, but as the meal ended, she became increasingly nervous.

"So, I guess we have to talk."

"Guess so," he agreed, shrugging.

"Here?"

"Might as well. The owner's a friend. We can stay as long as you like" He wanted to have this first conversation in public, where it would be more difficult to stray to painful topics and dwell on them.

She nervously fiddled with her napkin. "I don't really know where to start. I've missed you, Jack."

"I never thought I'd see you again, Melissa. But, I can't tell you how glad I am you found me." Reaching across the small table, he took her hand. "I gotta ask you, though. How'd you manage it? I thought we were fairly well hidden.

She looked away, feeling inexplicably ashamed. Nervously, she began to twist her napkin. "Oh, you know, just the usual UNIT harassment."

"UNIT's been bothering you? Why?"

"I don't know. All I know is that Major Marshall has some really sick, strange ideas about me and the Doctor. He won't leave me alone, keeps coming to the house trying to get me to admit I'm some sort of intergalactic concubine. It'd be funny, except he actually believes the stuff he's saying. Anyway, the last time he banged on the door, it was right after Canary Wharf. He knew you worked for Torchwood, and kept asking me questions."

Taking a deep breath, she looked down at her empty dessert plate. "I promise I didn't tell him anything, Jack. I didn't know much then. I didn't even know you were on Earth. He, uh, got a little upset when I refused to answer his questions. I know it's going to sound really melodramatic, but I've been looking over my shoulder ever since."

Jack could see that she was now wringing her napkin to the point that the paper was shredding into little piles on her lap. "Melissa," he asked gently, taking the napkin out of her hands and giving her fingers a comforting squeeze, "tell me what happened."

"Nothing really," she stammered. "I mean, he didn't hurt me or anything. He asked a lot of questions which I refused to answer, and then he got mad and left."

"But," he prompted. He was getting a bad feeling about this. She did not upset easily.

"But." She paused for a moment, finally deciding she needed to tell the truth to someone. Without a napkin to shred, she began to wring her hands. "I'm scared. I think he really is crazy. What he said to me-it was sick, Jack."

Deceptively calm, he asked, "What did he say he was going to do?"

She glanced apprehensively at him, unsure how he'd react. "He said if I was going to be the ice queen, then he was going to teach me a lesson." Looking down again, she confessed in a whisper as her voice cracked, "He said if I didn't answer his questions, the next time he came to the house he was going to show me how much better fucking a real man feels than fucking some alien or a freak."

For a second, he had to look away. Swallowing the bile that had come up his throat, he harshly demanded, "Please tell me the Doctor kicked his ass."

He was surprised that he could mention the Time Lord's name without flinching, but his fear for her outweighed his anger at his friend. Whatever his issues were with the Doctor, Jack knew that the Time Lord would have been furious that anyone in UNIT was threatening someone under his protection. Although, he had a feeling that Marshall was acting well outside UNIT parameters. The organization still held the Doctor in high esteem, and he couldn't dream of them officially sanctioning harassment and intimidation against one of the Time Lord's friends.

"I didn't tell him. The next time I saw him it had been several months since I had seen Marshall, but it had been only a few weeks since Canary Wharf for him. It wasn't important," she weakly assured him.

"But you're still scared, and he's still out there." His voice hardening further, he added, "And I remember telling him if he threatened you or the kids I would kill him."

Seeing how angry he had become, she was suddenly sorry she had admitted anything. "Please, don't worry about it. I'm here. He can't do anything to me right this second. I don't want to let him ruin everything."

Not wanting to distress her further, he gently reassured her. "I'm not going to worry about it, but you can be sure that I'm going to do something about it. It's going to be okay, Sweetheart."

Seeing the look of absolute relief on her face, he gave her hand a squeeze before changing topics. "Let me get this straight, you were able to find my base because some crazy jerk told you I worked for Torchwood? You should be in the P.I. business. I'm impressed, Melissa. You wouldn't be looking for a job, would you?" At least that got her to smile.

"I'm not looking for a job, and I can't claim credit. A friend of mine helped me. After I understood you were on Earth and working for some organization named Torchwood, she was able to access some archived UNIT files in Britain that gave me all the details."

"Would that be the mysterious Sarah Jane?" Jack asked. Seeing her look of surprise, he continued, "You talked about her on the video and Susan mentioned her a few times this morning. Is she looking for a job?"

"No, she's got a job; she's an investigative reporter." When he looked uneasy, she hastened to add, "Don't worry, she can keep a secret. She was associated with UNIT in the 70s under a Brigadier Leftbridge-Stewart. When she told him some of what had happened, he was livid and gave me copies of some old files he had."

Well, that reassured him. The woman could only be Sarah Jane Smith; she had worked with UNIT in the 70s, and had also been a companion to the Doctor. And it was comforting to know that the Brigadier still trusted him after all these years. At least he hadn't assumed Jack had been in the thick of the mess that was Canary Wharf. Still, he planned on calling the Brig. Maybe it was time for those files to go missing.

Giving her a quick kiss, he told her, "Well I'm glad you came, even if you did have to go through hell because of me. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Jack. You had no way of knowing."

Nodding reluctantly, he then asked the question that had been bugging him since Gwen's phone call. "I just have to know one thing. How did you manage to find the lift?"

Rubbing her head, she felt the beginning of a migraine. "I'm not sure. I just knew I would be able to find it."

"Headache?" he asked, instantly concerned.

"A little one," she smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about it."

"I always worry about your headaches." He had always been protective of her, and it was easy to slip back into old habits now that she was right in front of him, especially when it was all he could do not to get on a plane and take Marshall out personally. She seemed better when he changed the topic, however, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

They spoke congenially for another hour or so. Jack was genuinely interested in her life. She explained how the PTA president had asked for her resignation a few days ago. That had taken some explaining, although she found that she could finally laugh at the ridiculous thought of she and the Doctor being lovers. She told him about the teen's band concerts, Susan's growing art folio, and Matthew's swim meet victories. After an hour or so, the conversation turned towards him.

"How are you? You haven't said anything about yourself."

"I'm fine," he started, smiling that fake, but charming smile of his that had never fooled her. "What's not to like? Cardiff's a great town."

Please, Jack, I really want to know." She wasn't going to accept him keeping things from her; she never had, and she wasn't going to start now.

"No, Melissa, you really don't." He countered with more emotion than he expected. It was frightening that she could slip past the defenses he had had in place for so long. It was as if they had never been separated.

"I do, you idiot!" she shot back heatedly. "I told you I love you. I know it was a long time ago for you, but nothing has changed the way I feel. Nothing will change the way I feel. I love you, even if you don't love me anymore, and I always will. So, I'm going to ask again, how are you, Jack?"

He stared at her for several moments, thinking. She still loved him, even after reading those UNIT files and knowing his problem. Hell, she had made the Doctor go back to Satellite Five for him if her kids were to be believed. He had held his feelings inside for so long, and he desperately wanted to talk to someone. He had thought that maybe he would be able to open up to Gwen, but so far had only been able to give her hints and cryptic remarks. But here was Melissa, accepting him as he was now, and able to remember the self he used to be. And still she loved him.

His eyes were shiny with tears he was determined not to spill, as he replied with his voice husky with emotion, "I feel like I've been living in limbo for so long. I die and die and die again, and I don't know why. There has to be some purpose, some reason, for why this is happening to me."

Once he started to speak, he found words he had bottled up since his first death spilling out. "He left me. He left me on a satellite full of the dead and piles of ash. I want answers, and I want this to end. It hurts too much to see everyone you love die."

"Oh, Jack, I'm so very, very sorry." Tears fell down her face as she thought of his lonely ordeal.

"I just want to know why he left me. What did I do wrong?" he asked, a small sob escaping as he finished.

She leaned into him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their faces were inches apart as she said very earnestly, "I promise you, Jack; you did nothing wrong. You died to give him a chance to save everyone else. You died a hero."

Gently, he took her arms and pushed her back into her chair. He studied her tear-stained face, noting that her eyes were full of conviction. "You know what happened, don't you?"

She dropped his hands and began to absently rub her forehead, "I know some, but I don't understand it all." Pausing a second, she continued apologetically, "It's not my story to tell. You deserve to hear it from him. He's not God, Jack. He makes mistakes. I hope you'll be able to forgive him one day."

He slowly blew out the breath he had been holding. She was right; he needed to hear his story from the Doctor, not her. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, he reassured her, "I've waited a long time for his timeline and mine to sync. You're right; I should hear this from him." He finished with a hint of frustration in his voice, "Sometimes, though, I don't think it will ever happen.

"It will. I know it will," she promised.

He looked around the dining room, glad to see that it was empty in the late afternoon. Glancing at the front entrance, he noticed that Malcolm had at some point closed the café. He was nowhere to be seen, and Jack would thank him for his discretion later. He could always count on Malcolm, especially after saving his daughter from an internet predator a few years ago.

Turning towards Melissa, he was about to suggest they make a quick stop at the Hub before meeting Susan and Matthew at the hotel. The words died on his lips as he saw her face. It was pained, and her eyes were unfocused, just as they had been all those years ago when she had first stepped into the TARDIS. "Melissa?" he asked, hoping to get her to snap back to reality.

In a distant voice, she began, "He'll be here soon, Jack. You'll be tired, so, so tired, but you're going to have to run faster than you did before. Don't let him run away this time. He needs you and you need . . ."

"Melissa!" he pleaded while grabbing her shoulders and giving her a small shake. "Stop it! Snap out of it!"

"Jack? My head is killing me," she groaned as she once again became aware of their surroundings. "What happened? I feel dizzy. You didn't give me that drug?" she asked, panicking.

"No," he promised. "You just got all mystical on me. Let's get you back to the hotel so you can rest."

Quickly, he called for Malcolm to arrange for a cab to drive them back to the hotel. Although Melissa felt weak and her legs were extremely shaky, she managed to walk to the cab with some assistance from Jack, who had her wrapped in his right arm. She slept against his shoulder on the ride back to the hotel. Once there, however, she insisted that she was fine and didn't need him fussing over her.

"Drama queen," he whispered in her ear just before his mouth found hers.

Since Susan and Matthew would be arriving within the hour, they decided to wait in the spacious hotel lobby. Going into the bar, he ordered a coffee for himself and a mineral water for her. The coffee was drinkable, although it was not in the same league as Ianto's brew.

Idly, he wondered what his team was doing. If it had been a quiet day, then they were most likely speculating on what had happened last night. He knew that he would have to bring Melissa into the Hub for some type of introduction. If he didn't, his team would most likely stalk her the entire time she was here. They might stalk her anyway. Their curiosity bordered on the obsessive when it came to his personal life. It didn't help that he shared next to nothing with them, but decades of betrayal by various Torchwood agents had taught him to be cautious. Still, she would have to be explained.

Handing her the glass of mineral water, he watched her sip distractedly as she again rubbed her forehead. Sitting beside her, he asked seriously, "How are your headaches?"

She lied to herself as much to him. "This is probably just jet lag. I'm okay, really." Carefully putting down her glass, she successfully changed the topic. "So, what are we going to tell Matthew and Susan we did today?"

"You mean besides spending most of the day in bed?" he replied in an all too innocent voice.

"Jack!" Finding a piece of discarded newspaper on the table, she whacked him on the arm.

"Okay, okay, I get your point. Relax; after their embarrassment this morning, they're not going to press for details. I told them I run the Cardiff Tourist Board, and that I was going to show you the tourist office."

"Sounds nice and boring. I'm surprised they believed you."

"He called me Dad this morning."

"Who?" she asked, confused by the abrupt change of topic.

"Matthew did; he called me Dad twice."

"I'm sorry if it bothered you," she finally replied, unsure of his feelings on the matter. "I don't think they understand how long we've been separated, and Matthew's probably hoping to get you to come back with us."

"It didn't bother me. But I'm not the same person, Melissa. I don't want to disappoint you or the kids."

Putting her drink down, she clasped his free hand and looked him directly into his deep blue eyes. "You could never disappoint us, you know. We love you too much."

Unaccustomed to such an unconditional declaration after years of working for Torchwood, he squeezed her hand in silent thanks. After a moment, he found his voice, although it was choked and full of emotion. "I don't deserve—"

"You do; you always have." As he dropped her gaze, she knew it was time to talk of something else. "Don't tell the kids about Torchwood, if you don't mind. I'm afraid they'd manage to sneak inside, even with your security."

"Don't worry, I didn't plan to, but you're going to have to formally meet the team if you don't want to be followed all over Cardiff. They get curious about my private life." He unconsciously began to scan the lobby to make sure that no one had managed to spy in person.

"Why are they so obsessive about it?"

"Because it's none of their business," he answered, his voice flat, almost angry.

"Are you telling me they don't know anything about your past?"

"No, they don't, and I'd appreciate it if you'd keep it that way.

Surprised at his demeanor, she sat back on the sofa and thought for a few minutes. He had definitely changed since she had last seen him, but that was only to be expected, wasn't it? He still cared about her and the kids, so she trusted him, but she wondered who his friends were in Cardiff. Didn't he have anyone he could confide in? Just how lonely was he here, and for how long had he been that way?

Concerned, she finally asked, "So no one here knows about, um, your condition?"

Knowing exactly what she was asking, he sighed before answering. "The newest member of my team saw the results of my 'condition', as you put it, when I hired her, but the rest are unaware, although I'm sure they have their suspicions. Just like none of them know of my former associations. I've spent a lot of time and effort getting to the point where I could change the organization's focus, and I'm not going to have any one of them questioning my motives."

"I'm not here for your team, Jack," she reassured him. "All I care about is you. And if I want to find out anything specific about your past, I promise I'll ask you myself. Fair?"

"Fair enough." Brightening, he asked, "So, can you wear that incredibly sexy suit again tonight?"

"No, but I have a very nice dress I could wear," she replied primly.

"Does it show off your breasts as nicely as the suit did?"

"Actually, it does," she answered with a wicked grin. Seeing her children enter the hotel, she warned him, "Behave, Jack. The kids are coming this way."

Dinner was an Indian restaurant near the hotel. They all ordered various curries and enjoyed making fun of each other as sweat poured down their foreheads. Susan won the prize for the most sweat, although she insisted on calling it perspiration. Matthew won the prize for drinking the most. He downed three and a half Pepsi's while trying to douse the heat burning his mouth. Jack recommended the coconut ice cream for dessert, and they all agreed that it had been a splendid evening.

As soon as dinner was over, Susan had declared that she was tired. As it was only nine o'clock, her brother immediately disagreed, only to have Susan step on his foot and give him a significant look. Finally realizing the reason for Susan's look, he quickly said that he was tired as well, and told his mother that he hoped they would have fun the rest of the evening. He had obviously not meant it to sound quite the way it had. Stumbling over awkward apologies, he let Susan drag him towards their hotel room.

"They're sweet," Jack told her as he watched them leave. "I think they're trying to give us some time alone."

"More likely they're hoping if they stay out of sight tonight, I won't send them on another tour tomorrow. They're teenagers, Jack; they always have some hidden agenda." Melissa slid the key card into the lock and entered her room. Walking to the closet, she pulled out a red Norwegian sweater and began to change into it.

"You promised me some cleavage," he complained playfully and he sat on the edge of her bed and watched her dress.

Walking over, she straddled him and offered, "You could help me take the sweater off, and we could stay here tonight. It would be much warmer than going to some dank underground base.

"Hey! I live in that dank underground base." Sobering, he pulled her gently off his lap and sat her next to him. "Much as I want to stay here tonight, if I don't show up at the Hub, they will come after me. Oh, they'll use the excuse that they were worried about me, but it would be a lot easier if we just go to them."

"Guess it's time to go back in the lion's den, then," she answered slowly. Wanting to lighten the mood, she added with a smile, "You have to promise no one will point a gun at me tonight, though."

Ignoring her teasing tone, he took her hand and began to caress it. "I'm so sorry for what happened last night. I shouldn't have—"

"Sh," she ordered quietly, putting a finger on his lips. "We've been through that already."

They took a cab to the Millennium Center and walked hand in hand through the Plass. "Think we'll go in by the front door, tonight," he told her as he led her to the tourist office. "Don't want to surprise anyone and make them jumpy."

Melissa thought the cog wheel door was impressive, as were the sirens. The place was even bigger than she had seen last night, and it was somewhat chilly. She was glad that she had worn the sweater and not the dress. Seeing four people talking quietly near a few workstations brought a lump to her throat. They were trying to appear very casual, but their conversation stopped completely when she and Jack appeared in front of them.

They stared unabashedly at her until the Captain began to speak. "This is a friend of mine. Her name's Melissa Morgan. She lives in the States. I thought I'd go ahead and introduce her to you all since most of you have already met her." Although Jack was smiling and his tone was warm, she could also hear the warning in his voice as he spoke to his people.

"Yeah, because there's always two sets of rules around here. One for bloody Captain Jack Harkness and the other for the rest of us! Why don't you just take her to the archives and see if there's anything she wants to borrow while you're at it." The weasel-faced man ranted, his temperament not improved since last night.

"That's enough, Owen." Turning to her as if the man hadn't spoken he said, "Let me introduce you to our medic, Dr. Owen Harper. Owen's a complete prick, but a good enough doctor that it usually doesn't bother me." "Usually," he added his voice now harsh in warning.

"Dr. Harper," Melissa said in acknowledgement, her own voice somewhat frosty. She had not forgiven him for his jibe last night, but was relieved that he had not brought it up again. She couldn't shake the feeling that he looked somewhat familiar, but he still set her teeth on edge.

Looking now at Gwen, Jack continued, "This is Gwen Cooper, she's the newest member of the team, and a former police constable."

So this is the one who knows, Melissa thought as Gwen extended her hand and gave her a sympathetic smile. I'll have to watch out for her, she decided as the dark haired woman told her how good it was to meet a friend of Jack's.

Jack gave Gwen a brief frown; he did not want her asking Melissa questions, but knew that it would be inevitable. Skipping over Ianto for a moment, he smiled reassuringly to Toshiko. "And this is Toshiko Sato, our resident technical genius. There are times I think she could give our mutual friend a run for his money."

Toshiko was embarrassed by the high praise, even if she didn't completely understand just how much he was actually complimenting her. Smiling shyly, she, too, shook Melissa's hand, but seemed tongue-tied and did not speak.

It was easy for Melissa to murmur, "Pleased to meet you." After all, Toshiko had not drugged her or held a gun to her head.

Finally, Jack began to introduce suit man. "Last, we have Mr. Ianto Jones. Ianto cleans up after our messes, makes incredible coffee and runs the tourist office upstairs, isn't that right, Ianto?" Jack's tone was surprisingly challenging as he spoke to the now named Mr. Jones.

Melissa noticed that the young man was the only one who looked Jack straight in the eye as he was being introduced. The others had either been staring at her, or had looked away from Jack before he had finished speaking.

He gravely responded, "Quite correct, sir," before turning his attention to her. He did not offer to shake her hand, or say that it was nice meeting her. He merely nodded briefly in her direction, and walked away.

"Would you quit messing with the tea boy, Harkness." Owen grumbled irritably as Ianto disappeared. "I, for one, don't like my coffee burnt."

"Owen, in my office, now." Jack demanded, with no possibility of refusal. "Gwen, Tosh, would you mind showing Melissa around a little bit?"

"Of course, Jack," Gwen responded, pretending that she was doing her boss a favor, but secretly gleeful that she and Tosh would get to spend some time alone with the mystery woman.

"So," Tosh said eagerly as Jack and Owen disappeared into Jack's office. "What would you like to see?" She seemed to have finally found her voice.

"I'm not really sure what there is to see," Melissa admitted as they waited for her answer. "Do you really have a dinosaur flying around here?"

"Believe it or not," Tosh agreed, laughing. "Although, if you want to see it, we'll have to find Ianto. He and Jack are the only two that can get it to come near."

"No pterodactyl's at Torchwood I, then?" Gwen asked casually.

"I wouldn't know," Melissa replied shortly. Here we go, she thought, with a lump in her throat.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I thought you and Jack were talking about Canary Wharf last night," Gwen wasn't sorry at all.

Melissa smiled tightly; she wasn't going to correct Gwen just to give her more information. Besides, if the Torchwood operative thought that bringing up last night would get her to talk, she was sadly mistaken.

"We said a lot of things to each other last night. I can see how it would be easy to misunderstand without knowing the context." There, let her stew over that one for a while.

"Oh," Toshiko began nervously. "Do you like plants? We have some very nice alien plants in the hothouse." It was obvious that Toshiko was uncomfortable with confrontation, and was trying to smooth things over.

"I adore plants, and I'd love to see some alien ones," Melissa enthused, allowing Toshiko and Gwen to lead her. The room, at least, was warm and relatively peaceful inside. Melissa saw some beautiful flowers that reminded her of orchids, which Tosh explained had fallen through the Rift a few years back and had been transplanted to the Torchwood greenhouse. She said that they glowed in the dark, but had no chance to demonstrate their ability because a rift alarm began to sound. Quickly making her apologies, she left Gwen alone with the newcomer.

"How did you and Jack meet?" Gwen asked when she was alone with Melissa in the greenhouse.

"Oh, you know, typical damsel in distress," she replied vaguely. She knew better than to give a detailed answer to a trained investigator.

"And that was in the States, yeah?"

Slightly disturbed at the level of Gwen's astonishment when she nodded in reply, Melissa took her turn to ask, "That surprises you, why?"

Now it was Gwen's turn to decide how much information she was going to reveal. Seeing no reason not to answer truthfully, however, she began, "Jack's life is Torchwood. He sleeps here. He doesn't have friends outside of Torchwood, and I've only seen him travel on Torchwood business, and never outside of Wales. So yes, it surprises me that he met you in the United States."

"You're new here, though, aren't you?" she challenged.

"I know Jack."

It was on the tip of Melissa's tongue to say that she didn't know Jack at all, but she kept that thought to private. It would not do to lose her temper during this little game of give and take. She quite thought she was winning. She and Gwen ended up staring silently at each other for a few minutes. Melissa knew that most people would try to fill the silence by explaining themselves, but Mark had taught her that interrogation trick, and she knew that the former police constable would not appreciate it being used against her. She was, however, very grateful when she heard a door slam and Owen's loud voice carry throughout the Hub. Gwen excused herself to run after him, but not before parking Melissa in an empty conference room and letting her know that she looked forward to talking to her again.

The conference room was boring, but she decided it would be best not to go exploring. Surely Jack would find her when he wasn't busy. At least she didn't have to answer any awkward questions. Twenty minutes later she was half dozing, when a voice beside her made her jump.

"Would you like something to drink, Ms. Morgan?" the voice asked her as she daydreamed.

Startled, she stared at Ianto stupidly and asked, "What?"

"I asked if you would like something to drink," he repeated, overlooking the fact that he had startled her.

Seeing that it was the suit man, she was curious. When Jack had said that Mr. Jones cleaned up after Torchwood's messes, she suspected it went much deeper than the pizza boxes she'd seen piled next to the trash. It might be worthwhile to play give and take with him, so long as she didn't give too much away. "I could use a cup of hot chocolate, as long as that's the only thing in it," she answered, waiting to gauge his reaction.

"No marshmallows, then, I'll make a note," he responded dryly. He has an interesting sense of humor, she decided after watching him leave. That might indicate he's intelligent enough to be trouble. Still, Jack hadn't found her yet, and she wanted to find out as much about his current life as she could before he came to get her.

"Keep me company?" she asked as she sipped her hot chocolate, hoping that he was as curious about her as she was of him.

Nodding, he sat down across from her, but remained silent. Well, she guessed she could make the opening salvo.

"How long have you worked here?" she asked, deciding not to start with a question about Jack.

"Since a few weeks after Canary Wharf."

Canary Wharf was the last topic she wanted to discuss, so she searched for a new question. Ianto had not asked her anything about herself, so perhaps he was not playing the same game she was. "Do you like working here?" Maybe it had been a stupid question. Who was going to tell the boss's friend that they didn't like their job? Yet the young man seemed to genuinely think about the answer.

"I feel useful here."

"What do you do here?" "Besides what Jack told me," she immediately added.

Again Ianto seemed to put much thought into his answer. "I'm in charge of the archives," he finally told her.

Sipping her now warm chocolate, Melissa began to suspect that this small piece of information was important. Think, think, think, she told her little brain. What did he just tell her?

"It must be an extensive archive, considering how long Torchwood has been in operation."

"Extensive is an appropriate word. It contains the complete history of the Cardiff branch and every piece of information Jack could salvage from Torchwood I," Ianto told her in an emotionless tone.

"The complete history? Surely there must be some gaps."

"Complete," he confirmed without giving away a hint of his thoughts through his body language.

If what he said was true, then Ianto Jones knew more about Jack's history than she did. Considering what Jack had told her about his privacy, she was somewhat shocked that he had let someone who worked for him into the archive. What else did Ianto know? And did he share with the rest of the team?

"That must be an interesting aspect of your job," she finally managed to say.

"It's been illuminating," he replied with the same hint of dry wit she had noticed earlier.

She knew now that she was no longer playing give and take. Mr. Jones was sending her a message, although he was making her ask for it. Also, he either did not care about her past with Jack, or already knew. Both possibilities were slightly disturbing.

"Do the others use the archive much?" she finally wondered, wanting to know if all four of them knew more about her husband than he cared to admit.

"Jack likes to keep the archive tidy; if they need something, I get it." Ianto replied as he gathered up her empty mug. "If you'll excuse me, I have some filing to do," he finished as he walked out of the conference room.

Understood, Ianto Jones, Melissa thought as she watched him leave. That jerk Owen might call him the tea boy, but suit man knew at least some of Jack's secrets. He was loyal enough not to gossip with the other three, she finally decided. Was that because of his loyalty to Jack or because the others didn't appreciate him, she had no idea.

Soon, Jack walked into the conference room wearing his full smile. "About ready for that IOU?"

"Almost." She smiled at him, glad that he was in a good mood. "I was hoping you could finish my tour. So far, I've only seen the greenhouse and this conference room."

"Sure," he agreed easily, "Your wish is my command."

"Can we see your office?"

"Boring, but necessary if you want the complete tour. This way," he told her as he offered her his arm.

Jack's office, while not tiny, was smaller than she expected. It was also dimly lit and oddly cozy. Seeing his eyebrows raised in question, she commented, "You must spend a lot of time here."

"When I'm not in the field, I'm usually here. You wouldn't believe how much paperwork is involved in running this place."

"Defending the Earth in triplicate." She smiled wryly, wanting to make him feel more at ease.

"Exactly. Want to meet some aliens?" If he took her to the cells, would she judge him harshly? He had done the best he could, hadn't he? After all, he had improved things since taking over in 2000. There were fewer aliens in the cells, but some, like Janet, would never be able to leave.

"You have aliens working for you, too?" she asked excitedly. The only alien she had met was the Doctor, and he looked too human to count as much of an alien in her eyes.

"Um, no," he frowned. This was obviously a bad idea from the start. "We have some in the cells. Sometimes the rift shoots out less than pleasant beings, and we do the best we can do."

"Defending the Earth," she repeated resolutely, looking him straight in the eyes.

She could tell that he was nervous, although outwardly he still looked as confident as he had a few minutes ago. She wanted to reassure him that she wasn't disappointed in him. She had read the reports the Brigadier had given her; she knew how dangerous this rift in Cardiff was.

"Yeah," he agreed, subdued. He led her down to the main level of the cells and showed her Janet. "Janet here is our longest resident," he began to explain with more confidence. "We call her kind weevils. We're not sure what planet they come from, but the rift dropped them here, and now they live in the sewers. Sometimes they go topside and kill or hurt people. That's when we have to intervene."

"So no catch and release?" Melissa asked, as the creature suddenly started to howl and throw itself against the door.

Surprised by Janet's agitated frenzy, Jack pulled Melissa away from the cell door. "Actually, we do catch and release the weevils, but Janet was picked up seven different times, so we just decided it was easier to leave her here."

"Well, life in prison's better than the death penalty."

"Is it?" he asked quietly, watching Janet hurl herself at the door.

She didn't answer him. She didn't pretend to know everything, and his question had been largely rhetorical. Putting her arm around his, she led him away from the cellblock. "Come on, Jack. Show me the good stuff. Where's the space junk?"

Happy for an excuse to leave, he walked her towards the archives. Knowing that her visit would probably push Owen over the brink, he was very grateful to be alone in the Hub. Well, almost alone. "Okay, I'll take you to see the space junk, just promise me that you won't touch anything. Some of it's dangerous."

"It's Matthew who can't control himself when it comes to handling alien tech."

"Yeah, well, that's one reason why I don't want him down here, believe me." Horrific images of what an enthusiastic teenager could unleash in the archives played in his mind.

"Don't worry. If they start asking too many questions, I'll just tell him you're with MI5. I'm sure they don't have secret underground bases in Cardiff."

Melissa stopped talking as they entered the archives. The front room was huge and there were three doors leading to additional rooms in the back. The first room was nothing but black metal filing cabinets, and Ianto Jones was standing next to one on Melissa's right side, placing papers neatly into their proper folders.

"Ianto!" Jack called cheerily. "Did you know it's after eleven? Go home. Or were you the one chosen to watch me while I have Melissa in the Hub?" he asked in an innuendo laden voice.

"Some of us have to work, sir," Ianto responded. Melissa noticed that his tone was not sarcastic; she would have called it teasing, except that he wasn't smiling.

"That's right, and some of us don't know when to quit for the night. There is such a thing as being too dedicated to work, Ianto."

Smiling in a way that Melissa had learned to associate with trouble, Jack continued conspiratorially, "Melissa, Ianto can do things with a stopwatch that you wouldn't believe. Best sex I've had in years!"

"Jack!" she squeaked, embarrassed. Looking at Ianto she could see the Welshman was embarrassed as well, although he hid it much better than she did.

"Well, it was!" he retorted. "You know, I haven't done a threesome since the seventies, maybe if Ianto's willing," he began only to be cut off.

"NO!" she roared, looking apologetically at the young man. "I mean, um, no offense, Ianto." He nodded slightly, although she wasn't sure if that meant he agreed with her answer or took no offense from it. Shaking her head, she rounded on Jack. "Twentieth century, remember? I don't do threesomes!"

"Hey, the seventies were definitely in the twentieth century. I lived through them!" he defended himself hotly.

"Are you trying to embarrass me or embarrass Ianto?"

"Neither, can't hurt a guy to ask, right?"

Shaking her head in fond exasperation, she told him, "The answer's still no. What do you say, Ianto?"

"I must admit that I prefer his undivided attention."

"Good point. Jack you're outvoted."

"You two don't know what you're missing," he teased, relieved that neither had gotten jealous. Grabbing the keys to the secure archives, he led them to the artifact room.

It was like no room Melissa had ever seen before. The sheer size made her feel quite small. Oh, the Doctor, Rose and Jack had all talked about aliens and far flung civilizations, and she had seen that weevil in the cells, and Cybermen for that matter. However, the quantity and variety of items carefully catalogued in the room made her realize for the first time just how small and probably insignificant Earth truly was. Overwhelmed, she began to wander aimlessly up and down the aisles, ignoring Jack's explanations of some of the bigger items as he and the archivist trailed behind her.

When Jack noticed that she wasn't listening to him, he stopped talking and simply watched. She kept her word, and didn't touch, although her hands hovered briefly over a table of musical instruments before she began wandering again. He and Ianto now trailed her by at least ten feet, but he knew he could trust her not to pick anything up.

Jack thoughts strayed to the man walking beside him. Ianto had reacted to Melissa better than he had expected. Of course, he had never made any promises to the young man. In the privacy of his own mind, he would acknowledge that perhaps Ianto was more than just a convenient shag, but he would never tell the Welshman that.

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud crash in front of him. Melissa had backed into one of the smaller tables, knocking it over. Ignoring the shards of metal and glass from some of the broken artifacts, she continued to back up, much as one might upon coming face to face with a polar bear. She was panicky, and Jack was surprised that she had only knocked over one table in her retreat. Abruptly, she spun around and began to race down the aisle next to them. She showed no indication that she even noticed the two men as she ran out the door.

"Ianto!" Jack commanded as he began to jog towards the door, "I need to know what set her off. Find out if you can." Without waiting for a reply he asked, "Did you lock the outer door?"

Looking back to see his nod of confirmation, Jack slowed down slightly and began to softly call Melissa's name.

He found her huddled at the locked door. She did not answer him. Her legs were drawn up to her chest and she was rocking back and forth. Huge, silent sobs wracked her body, and tears left long, red tracks down her face. He sat carefully beside her and began to pat her back. "Hey," he whispered trying his best to calm her, "you're safe. Sh. You're safe. Melissa, I promise you; you're safe."

After a few minutes, she stopped rocking and looked at him, although there was more than a hint of hysteria in her eyes. Gasping for breath she begged, "Why can't they just stay dead?"

He didn't have a chance to answer because she immediately dropped her head and continued rocking. Taking her arms, he pulled her into a hug and began to rock with her. He slowly stopped rocking and was relieved that she did as well. After a few minutes, she again looked up into his eyes. The hysteria was gone, although it had been replaced by confusion.

"Jack?" Hesitantly, she placed her right hand on his cheek.

He took her hand and tenderly kissed her palm. "It's okay. Do you know where you are?"

When she shook her head, he informed her quietly. "We're inside Torchwood, in the secure archives." When she didn't show any signs of comprehension, he begged. "Don't you remember finding me yesterday?" The idea that she could lose the last twenty-four hours devastated him. It was the inside of the TARDIS all over again.

Blinking, a small smile finally appeared on her face, "Last night and this morning were unforgettable." Her smile turned into a frown as she tried to remember the rest of the day. "Why aren't we in your office?" she finally asked, wondering why they were in a room filled with filing cabinets.

Ianto had entered the outer chamber of the secure archive unseen by either of them. He felt embarrassed at witnessing such a private scene. He had never seen the leader of Torchwood act as gently as he had with her. Yes, Jack had comforted all of them at one time or another, but he had never shown the vulnerability he displayed now. Clearing his throat, the young man announced his presence.

"I've done what you asked me to do, sir. Do you need any assistance?"

Frightened by Ianto's presence, Melissa jumped up and backed away. Shooting the archivist an annoyed look, Jack ordered, "Unlock the archives. I'm going to take Melissa back to the hotel. Clean up the mess and wait."

"I'll be back soon," he announced in a warmer tone as he tried to calm down. Taking Melissa's hand, he led her out the Hub into the car park. Without speaking, he opened the passenger door of the SUV for her.

Visibly relaxing once she was standing outside Torchwood headquarters, Melissa began to fasten her seatbelt, hoping that Jack would tell her what had happened to cause her blackout. Not giving her a chance to speak, he leaned over and crashed his mouth against hers. His kiss was as passionate as it was demanding. Abruptly he pulled back and barked, "Don't ever scare me like that again."

Shaken, she heard the fear behind the anger in his voice. "I don't know what I did to scare you, but I'm sorry." She unbuckled her seat belt and pulled him closer, deciding his need for reassurance outweighed her need to know what had happened.

She was surprised when all he did was hug her tightly and breathe raggedly into her hair. Surely, he wasn't crying? After a few seconds, his breathing evened and he sat up, looking slightly embarrassed. His eyes were moist, but whatever private demon he had been battling seemed to be gone.

"For a minute I thought you had forgotten me."

"You're an impossible man to forget, Jack Harkness.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Being in your office. It's smaller than I would have expected."

They arrived unscathed at the Holiday Inn, no thanks to Jack's driving. He pulled the SUV up to the front and walked her into the lobby. "I'd better get back and spend some time at work. Why don't you and the kids do some sightseeing around town tomorrow and I'll meet you for dinner if we're not in the middle of an emergency. This is my private line; give me a call around six," he suggested, handing her a cream colored business card with no name and a single phone number. Kissing her briefly, he watched protectively as she disappeared into the elevator.

Entering the Hub fifteen minutes after he left, he made his way to Tosh's workstation.

"I have pictures of the three tables she might have looked at before she ran, sir," Ianto reported, adding the sir as an afterthought, somewhat unsure of his position at this specific point in time.

Nodding, Jack asked him to put the pictures up on Tosh's computer. After scanning the first picture of a table of seemingly random junk piled haphazardly on top of one another, he asked irritably, "What's all this? I thought the archives were better organized than this, especially the secure archive."

If Ianto took offense at his boss' criticism, he did not show it. Unruffled, he answered, "All three tables are sorting tables for items that aren't catalogued yet."

"Why's there so much of it?" the Captain asked with a hint of impatience.

"All of these items are things confiscated from Torchwood I after Canary Wharf. There hasn't been time to go through everything." The Welshman responded calmly, knowing it did no good to match Jack's temper. Taking offense would only degenerate into a shouting contest. He had seen that enough times with Owen. He also knew that Jack was still worried, and a worried Jack was usually a tense Jack.

"Okay, let's see the picture of the next table," the Captain ordered, satisfied that whatever had led to Melissa's panic, it had not been in the first picture.

Ianto brought up another picture of assorted junk, and Jack began to peer at it. Abruptly, he brought his fist down hard on Tosh's workstation. "What the hell is that doing there?" he roared, his eyes ablaze.

Looking at the item that his boss was emphatically pointing to on the screen, Ianto was puzzled. It was a long metal cylinder that ended with some sort of small light fixture or perhaps a camera on the end. The other end trailed off in a jumble of wires, as if it had been ripped off a larger piece. "I'm not sure what that is. Is it significant?"

"Hell, yes, it's significant!" Jack thundered. "Get me UNIT headquarters!"

Ianto complied at once, not mentioning that it was now the middle of the night. While he was still not clear about the significance of the item, he started to get a very bad feeling about it.

Jack's conversation with UNIT could only be described as confrontational. It lasted twenty-seven minutes by Ianto's stopwatch, and although the office door was closed, the Welshman could occasionally here the odd phrase. It was obvious that the Captain was livid at being left out of the loop, but he was also concerned that UNIT had gotten a hold of something.

"If I find out that UNIT has an intact casing," Ianto could hear him threaten, "then nothing will stop me from marching down to the Tower and blowing it up myself, do you have that?"

There were a few minutes when Jack's back was turned where Ianto could hear nothing, but he definitely heard the shatter as the Captain took his desk phone and hurled it onto the floor.

"Jack?" Ianto asked hesitantly stepping over the jagged shards of plastic to walk into his boss' office. Expecting Jack to rage at him about the idiocy of UNIT, he was stunned to see that his boss had put his head down on his desk. It was completely out of character for him to be so still after a confrontation.

Looking up, he began to bleakly ramble. "She said we might as well have killed him." Speaking as if to himself and not Ianto, he continued softly. "He'll never forgive me now."

"What are you talking about, Jack?" Ianto asked, alarmed at his lover's mental state.

Finally realizing that Ianto was in the room, he continued harshly, "I'm talking about Torchwood, and how it wasn't good enough for them to invite an invading army of Cybermen to this world, they had to bring the monsters as well. They were in that sphere, Colonel Mace admitted to me. That great big, bloody sphere that Torchwood I spent months trying to open. Well, they got what they wanted, didn't they? And she died because of it! The only thing Torchwood is good for is killing!"

Ianto took a small step back. He had seen his boss angry before, but never like this. Stalking out of his office, Jack headed to the secure archives. Unlocking the door, he marched straight towards the artifacts' room, pausing only long enough smash the case to the biggest gun Ianto had ever seen. Ignoring the cuts on his hand as he pulled the weapon out of the broken glass, he continued to the back of the room. Stopping several feet away from the table with the offending debris, he aimed the futuristic black gun. Without pausing to think, he fired the weapon at the table. The energy that shot out of the blaster blew the table and its contents into a million fragments.

Finally taking a deep breath, he spoke, his voice emotionless. "Go home, Ianto. I'll clean this up."

Ianto stared mutely at the mess. He hadn't thought of Torchwood's prize sphere since Canary Wharf. The fate of the sphere hadn't seemed important when metal men were marching through the building turning people into zombies. After all, it's not like anyone at Torchwood had been able to affect the sphere in the slightest. Now Jack was saying that the sphere had contained monsters as well. In fact, to go by Jack's reaction, the monsters in the sphere were worse than Cybermen, although he could not understand how that was possible.

Did it matter? He had lost Lisa to the Cybermen, and he realized tonight that Jack had also suffered a significant loss there as well. More importantly, his boss seemed ashamed to be working for Torchwood. Didn't he know that for all intents and purposes, he was Torchwood, now? Didn't he know how many times he had saved Cardiff, saved the planet, saved Ianto's own life? Yes, Jack could be stubborn, bad-tempered and arrogant, but he made the tough decisions that the rest of them could not. He had to know that it was worth it.

Watching Jack cut his fingers on the larger pieces of metal, the archivist grabbed a broom and dustpan and began to sweep up the fragments. "I'll help," he offered, hoping the Captain would understand he was offering more than just his services as janitor.

Jack stared at his bloody hands as Ianto finished cleaning. He didn't say much besides a small "thank you", but he did let Ianto disinfect and bandage his cuts. Afterwards, he let the Welshman lead him down the ladder into his bedroom. And if Jack's subsequent actions were more desperate and forceful than Ianto was used to, he did not complain.


	17. Of Death and Dying

Author's Notes - Apologies for the length of the last chapter. I should have split it. Looking back, I can see that it doesn't do much to advance the overall plot, but at the time I wanted to try my hand at writing the Torchwood characters. In this one, I was exploring the reality of Jack's many deaths. Thanks to everyone who's put this story on alert and continues to follow it.

* * *

><p>Jack functioned the next day like nothing had happened, and to three members of his team, everything appeared normal. For once, the rift spat out an alien who wasn't threatening to take over the world or eat the citizens of Cardiff. The Captain was able to help the Crilk repair his ship, which put a genuine smile on his face for a while.<p>

Ianto, however, wasn't fooled by his boss' act of normalcy. He was the only who understood why Captain Harkness spent most of his time in the archives methodically sorting through the rest of the Canary Wharf debris. By the end of the day, twenty-six new artifacts were catalogued, three of which went into Jack's private office safe. The rest was shoveled into the incinerator, with strict instructions that Ianto make sure it was completely melted before disposing of it.

When the Captain left the Hub promptly at six fifteen, Owen did not comment; the doctor had learned his lesson yesterday. Tosh told Jack to have a good time; she got a very suggestive smile in reply. Gwen, for some reason, told her boss to be careful. He frowned at that and told her, "I always am." Ianto did not say goodbye. He silently watched him leave, hoping that the woman from Jack's past would be able to help his lover in ways he could not.

Dinner that night was Italian, and it was easy for him to enjoy the food, conversation and company. Susan, Matthew and Melissa had spent several hours touring Cardiff Castle, and entertained him with stories of tacky souvenirs and garish Victorian decorating.

"I bought a snow globe that has the Millennium Center in it, Matthew told him proudly, as he held up his treasure.

"And I told you what a stupid souvenir that was. How can it be from Wales if it was made in China?" his sister asked as he showed off his purchase.

"It's of the Cardiff Millennium Center, isn't it?" Matthew countered, looking smug. "It counts, because if you didn't count things made in China then there wouldn't be any souvenirs to buy."

"Not true," Susan argued, "I bet Jack could tell us about all sorts of real Welsh souvenirs." Jack glanced quizzically at Melissa, who simply smiled. He was going to have to pretend to be a tourist official after all.

"Sure, let's see, there's Welsh love spoons. That's a traditional wood craft. If you're looking for something more contemporary, there's an artists guild near the Millennium Center. I'm sure you won't find anything made in China there." Suddenly, he was thankful that he had lived in Cardiff for so long.

"I'm sure we'll have time to look for those after our trip to Stratford-upon-Avon this weekend. I thought we'd drive over so you two could get some information for that paper Mr. Hartline is letting you do in lieu of class while we're here."

"Ooh, do you think we can see a play?" Susan asked excitedly, Welsh souvenirs forgotten.

"I think they do that mostly in the summer, Susan, but we'll see."

Matthew groaned. Susan would want to see _Romeo and Juliet_, he just knew it. That play was nauseating. Not that he minded the kissing; he quite enjoyed kissing now, but he considered Romeo and Juliet to be completely stupid. Who takes poison just to see their boyfriend?

Melissa smiled at her son's vocal protest. She knew he was worried that Susan would drag them to see _Romeo and Juliet_. Glancing at Jack, she was surprised at how serious he looked. "What's wrong, Jack? Bad experience with Shakespeare?"

He didn't respond to her joke. "Maybe you shouldn't be driving," he told her as he covered her hand that was resting on the table with his own.

"I'm fine. Driving on the left doesn't bother me." She pulled her hand away from his, and intentionally ignored the real reason for his concern.

"Still, maybe I should go with you. Haven't ever been to Stratford-Upon-Avon, might be informative."

Disregarding her children's excited agreement, Melissa replied frostily. "I thought you needed to be here. Won't they miss you at work?"

Susan listened to her mom and Captain Jack in puzzlement. They were both tense. Her mother had that biting, yet polite tone of voice that she reserved for pig-headed school officials and telemarketers. Susan wished she knew what they were really arguing about. Looking at Matthew, she noticed that he was trying to balance his dessert spoon on his nose. Boys, Susan thought, were stupid and oblivious.

"What's the advantage of being the boss if you can't take some time off?"

"I don't need a babysitter," she snapped back, finally losing her cool.

"What's going on?" Even Matthew noticed the tension in the air.

Not above using her children to get his way, Jack answered Matthew. "Your mother had a blackout last night, and I don't think it's a good idea for her to be driving right now."

"You blacked out again? " Susan asked in disbelief. "That's the fourth time since Christmas, Mama! Are you sure you're alright?"

"What? You told me she had been having some headaches, not blackouts." Jack was irate. The kids had pulled a fast one, and he'd fallen for it. He wondered if their willingness to talk about the Doctor had only been to distract him from asking too many questions about their mother. What had Melissa said? They always had their own agenda.

"Look," started Melissa, trying to placate everyone. "I'm fine. It's only been three, and you're right, Jack; maybe I should take it easy on the driving for a while. We can take a train or bus."

"It's been four since Christmas, but seven since those metal things freaked us out and you broke your shoulder," her son announced unexpectedly. "And that's the ones Susan and I know of. How many more have you had?"

Standing up abruptly, Melissa motioned for the waiter to bring the check. She looked sternly at the three of them sitting at the table. "You're not going to gang up on me."

Paying the bill quickly in cash, she addressed the group. "I'm going back to the hotel. Jack, I'm sure you can find something to do with the kids for a few hours. You're the manager of the tourist office, after all." As she stalked off, she turned and sarcastically told them, "Have fun talking about me behind my back."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The knock on her door woke her up around midnight. She had fallen asleep reading, although she had expected that Jack would show up at some point. Opening the door, she was grateful that he had come to her room alone.

He walked in without being invited. "I remembered how much you like these," he told her as he handed her a Starbucks chai latte.

"Peace offering?" she asked as she inhaled the spicy aroma.

"Thought you could use the caffeine."

He took off his coat and sat down in the chair by the table. "We didn't mean to gang up on you tonight," he began as she drank her latte. "It's hard to see you go through that and not be able to help." When she failed to respond, he added, "The kids are scared, Melissa. Don't get angry at them for worrying about you. They finally admitted you've been getting much worse in the last few months."

She placed the half-finished drink down on the dresser and sat on his lap. "I didn't mean to get so defensive," she explained contritely as she played with his braces. "I'm scared, too. Scared enough that I hoped to convince you to come back to Colorado with me."

Nervously, she hopped off his lap and sat on the bed. "Those reports you wrote for the Brigadier in the seventies, well, it sounded like you weren't real happy here, and you made it clear that you started working for Torchwood under duress."

Before he could respond she added, "I guess I thought that I could rescue you, and you could rescue me. But I knew as soon as I saw you with your team that you belong here, now. You're in charge, and that makes you Torchwood." She paused for a moment and smiled, "You've got a good team, even with that jerk Owen."

Sighing in frustration, Jack finally agreed. "I can't leave, not now. Not when I'm so close to finding my answers." Sitting beside her on the bed, he began to rub her back, feeling her ever-present scars underneath her shirt. "I'm sorry, Melissa. If I left for anyone, it would be for you. But you're right. I am Torchwood, and I'm trying so hard to make it something he would be proud of."

"You can't live your life trying to please the Doctor, Jack. Please tell me you're not doing this just for him."

He stopped rubbing her back and dropped his hands into his lap. He desperately wanted her to understand what he was only now realizing. Gathering his thoughts, he started slowly. "You don't know what I was like before I met Rose and the Doctor. I was a disgraced Time Agent and a conman. I thought I couldn't go any lower, when I thought about it at all, and then I ended up almost wiping out the human race. Not only did he forgive me, but he gave me a second chance."

Gaining confidence, he continued, "I don't know why he left me, and I doubt I'll like the answer, but no matter what, he made me a better man, and I owe him this." Cutting off her protest, he finished, "I'm doing this to give my life meaning, Melissa. There has to be some good that comes out of my dying over and over and over again."

"Don't make this your penance, either," she begged.

He laughed and gave her that smile that had always made her heart race. It was peculiar but comforting to realize that this time she was trying to protect him. "I'm not, I promise. The twenty-first century is when everything changes, and it's fascinating to be a part of that."

Impulsively, he offered, "You and Susan and Matthew could stay here. Have you ever thought of that?"

"I don't know. I've never thought about moving, and I'm not one to run away from my problems." She was tempted, even if it didn't seem very practical.

"You don't have to make up your mind now. I was serious, though, about being owed leave. I could take a few weeks and spend it with you, and if it works out, you three could stay in Cardiff. I'm not going to pretend it would be easy for either one of us at first, but I'm willing to make some changes if that's what you want." Seeing her hesitation, he stopped trying to convince her with words. Unbuttoning her blouse, he began to persuade her in other ways.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Mom, Susan's hogging the laptop." Melissa couldn't believe that Matthew had called her room before seven just to complain about his sister.

"Put her on," she told him wearily. The late nights with Jack were beginning to take their toll, although she had no plans of telling him that. He couldn't help it when the rift decided to interfere with their plans. Last night, he hadn't even made it to the room until midnight.

"I'm almost finished with my report," Susan complained before her mother could even say good morning. "If he'd stop bugging me about it, he could have the computer in an hour. He's just in a foul mood this morning."

"Okay, Sue, you can have it until breakfast. Meet me in the lobby at eight, and put your brother back on, would you?" Why couldn't they settle their differences on their own once in a while?

"I'm not in a crappy mood, Mom. She's just exaggerating again." Matthew's list of complaints was long, and Melissa found herself tuning him out at one point.

Finally, she tired of listening. "Look, Matt, you can have the computer after breakfast. Meet me at eight in the lobby. Jack's going to meet us there."

"Okay," he reluctantly agreed, still unsatisfied. "Meet you at eight."

By 8:30, Melissa knew Jack wasn't going to show up, and decided they might as well eat. Once she had finished breakfast, she sipped her coffee and worried about what she was going to say and whether she should wait. Knowing from a few weeks' experience that it was impossible to predict his schedule, she decided to forge ahead.

Once Matthew had cleaned his second plate, she began. "So, English papers almost finished?"

"Yeah, I just have to type the bibliography," the teen grumped, not pleased that he was the last one to be finished. "Susan's already sent hers, the show off."

"Mom! He's been like this all morning!"

"Well, if you hadn't woken me up at five texting Jose Ramirez, I might be in a better mood!"

She almost abandoned her plan to speak to her children, but stubbornly, she pressed onwards. "Can it, this is important. I want to know how both of you feel about being here."

They both stared at her, suddenly cautious. "What's that supposed to mean?" Matthew finally asked.

Before she had a chance to reply, Susan spied Jack walking towards them. "Hey, Jack's in the lobby. Must be cold out; he usually doesn't button his coat all the way."

Twisting in her seat, Melissa watched Jack stride toward them. Only, this morning, he wasn't striding so much as staggering. And it was much too warm in the hotel for his heavy wool coat to be buttoned like that. Concerned, she bolted out of her chair and walked to him as fast as she could without actually running. The kids were not far behind.

"You're hurt," she accused, leading him to the elevator.

He didn't answer except to lean heavily against her. As she staggered, Matthew slipped his arm underneath Jack's and took some of his weight. Hissing in pain, Jack let the boy push him into the elevator, where he sagged against the wall.

Susan stared at him, trying to hide her fear. If this was the school all over again, she wasn't sure she could handle it. Matthew, however, gave Jack a knowing grin. "Get attacked at the tourist office a lot, Dad?"

Melissa rolled her eyes and counted to ten; trust her son to know more than he should. Luckily, it was a short elevator ride, and by the time she was finished, they were at the third floor. Matthew had punched the button, but it made sense, their room was closer to the elevator than hers. Helping Matthew support Jack, she let Susan open the door, and tried not to comment on the state of the room. There had been a Do Not Disturb sign on the door, and she wondered if housekeeping had been inside at all during the two weeks they had been in Cardiff.

Pushing that thought aside, she propped Jack up on the nearest bed and unbuttoned his coat and shirt, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out when she saw the deep slashes across the left side of his chest and torso. The left side of his shirt was in tatters; no wonder he had buttoned up the coat. One slash mark exposed rib cartilage, and she was careful not to touch it. The other cuts were less severe, but they were all red and inflamed; a thick yellow pus oozed from the deepest one.

His injuries went far beyond her first aid skills. She was going to have to call the cavalry. "Jack, you need stitches, and those cuts need disinfecting. Give me Dr. Harper's number, or let me help you to the Hub.

He stared at her uncomprehending for a moment, his eyes glassy. "Just leave. . . . be alright."

Fear sent adrenaline rushing through her body. Putting her hand against his cheek, she realized that he was already feverish. Although she had read the reports that said he couldn't die, had even read some of the accounts of the early experiments Torchwood had conducted on him, it had been alone in her home and Jack had been thousands of miles away. The only way to accept such horror had been to rationalize it; she had assumed that he didn't feel physical pain, but that comforting assumption was being shattered before her eyes. She needed to do something; she wasn't just going to stand back and watch him suffer.

Ignoring his request, she looked at her kids, trying to assess their courage in a single glance. "Susan, I want you to go upstairs and get my purse. There's cash in my wallet. I want you to buy Jack some clothes. He's going to need something to wear once the doctor sees him."

She rattled off sizes and then gave her daughter an encouraging smile. "You can wait in my room until the shops open; no need for us all to be hovering around." She knew Susan would take the hint. Her daughter was almost panicky already; she had no idea how she would react if Jack's condition suddenly worsened. Getting her out of the room was the right thing to do.

Once Susan let the door close behind her, Melissa's smile vanished. "Matthew, I need your help."

Worried, but outwardly calm, he assured his mother, "Anything. Just tell me how I can help Dad."

Hoping she wouldn't regret this later, she gave him tight hug. "I need you to run to that little tourist shop we passed by the other day. The one by the water, remember?" At his quick nod, she continued. "They'll be a man in a suit standing behind the counter. You need to tell him Jack's been hurt and he needs a doctor. The doctor's name is Owen Harper; bring him back here as soon as you can, got that?"

"Yeah, I got it. I'll bring Dr. Harper back as soon as I can; I promise, Mom."

"I know you will." She hugged him again and watched him run out of the room, all pretense of calm gone.

Turning back to Jack, she saw that he finally was aware of his surroundings; although, it was obvious he was in great pain. "Melissa? Didn't mean to drag you into this. Didn't dodge fast enough going back to the Hub last night."

"Something ripped into your side. The cuts are bad enough, but they're already infected." She hesitated, hating to ask. "Can an infection kill you?"

He closed his eyes for a moment before answering. "Yeah, not a pretty way to go." Seeing her distress, he tried to reassure her. "You don't need to worry. Even if I die; I'll be fine."

She grimaced when he mentioned dying, but she managed to keep her emotions somewhat in check. "Dr. Harper's on his way; you don't need to worry about dying this time, understand?"

"Yeah," he agreed, more to placate her than out of any conviction he had. Worn out, he closed his eyes, trying not to think about how much his entire body hurt.

Running to the bathroom, she wet a washcloth. When she returned, she wiped his face with the cold water in a futile effort to bring his fever down. Her son needed to hurry.

Matthew ran all the way to the tourist office, only to find it closed and locked tight. Terrified that something would happen because he had taken too long, he began to pound loudly on the door, shouting at the darkened office. "Help! Somebody, you've got to help me! My dad's hurt! I need a doctor! You've got to open up!"

His pounding and screaming triggered a proximity alert on Tosh's computer deep inside the hub. Alarmed at the boy's desperation, she called Owen over to her screen, and Gwen followed out of curiosity.

"Owen, what do you make of this?"

Taking off the gloves he had been wearing while doing an autopsy, Owen stared at the screen. "Stupid kid, why doesn't he call 999; and where's his father, anyway?"

Gwen, who had been listening as well, interjected. "He sounds American; maybe he doesn't know about 999?"

"Whoever he is, he's going to break the glass if he keeps this up. Should we send Ianto to see what he wants?" Tosh looked around the workstations, but didn't see the Welshman.

"Tea boy's in the archives," Owen muttered distractedly. Something about the frantic teen was giving him an uneasy sense of déjà vu. "Tell you what," he found himself saying, "I'll get my bag and see what he needs."

Gwen and Tosh stared at him in astonishment. "What?" he asked defensively. "I can do something nice every once in a while. I am a doctor, you know."

"Then you better go now before he cuts his hand and you have two patients." Inwardly, Tosh was beaming; beneath the wisecracks and foul mouth, Owen really was kindhearted.

Already wondering why he had bothered, Owen grabbed his bag and raced up the stairs. "Oi! Stop that banging! You said your dad was hurt?" Owen closed the door to the tourist office and stared at the tall, dark-haired teenager. If anything the feeling of déjà vu had gotten stronger.

"What's your name?" Matthew asked warily. How could the Time Agent from the school be standing in front of him now? And where was the guy in the suit?

Irritated at the boy's question, Owen sniped, "Christ! I thought you said your dad needed help. Why the hell should you care what my name is?"

Seeing the kid get such a stubborn look on his face and realizing he wasn't going to move until getting an answer, Owen testily answered, "It's Owen, Dr. Owen Harper to you. Now, if your dad really needs help, maybe you should show me where he is."

Galvanized, Matthew began running in the direction of the hotel, offering apologies and explanations that meant little to Owen, who was keeping pace right behind him. "Sorry, thought you were a Time Agent. Dad really needs your help. He's not looking so good, but maybe you can fix him up like you did last time."

Somewhat out of breath, Owen regarded the boy cautiously as they entered the lobby of the Holiday Inn. He was an ordinary looking kid wearing jeans and a navy wool sweater; nothing shouted alien or assassin to look at him, but looks could be very deceiving. It was obvious from the distance they had run that the kid had not chosen the tourist office at random; he had been looking for someone in particular, and Owen had a sinking feeling that it had been him.

Matthew looked at Dr. Harper in confusion as the man refused to get into the lift. "Hurry up! Why aren't you coming?"

"If you think I'm blindly walking into an ambush, then you're thicker than you look." He regarded the teen coldly, but immediately had doubts. He didn't think the kid was good enough of an actor to fake the desperate look on his face.

"Dad needs your help! He's hurt bad, and Mom's scared. She sent me to find you! Please, Dr. Harper! I promised!" Matthew was pressing the door open button with all his might. He couldn't believe that he was going to fail after coming so close.

Owen's eyes narrowed; he had been right; the kid had wanted him specifically. But it also sounded like he was genuinely worried about his father; it didn't make much sense. "What's your dad's name?"

Matthew blushed crimson, embarrassed that he had failed to mention that important detail. "Jack, his name's Jack. Captain Jack Harkness."

"Bloody fucking hell! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" With that, Owen was in the lift and Matthew was stabbing the button for floor three.

The banging on the hotel door was the best sound Melissa had heard in a very long time. Rushing to the door, she pulled it open, letting Matthew and Owen inside. The medic took one look at her and gave a small nod, then focused all of his attention on his patient.

"Shit." Jack didn't look good. Owen pulled out his medical scanner from his bag and ran it over the Captain before cutting off the rest of his shirt and quickly inspecting the slashes on his side.

"It wasn't a Weevil," he muttered to himself as he carefully placed a sample of the yellow pus on the scanner in order to analyze it. Damn, that was extremely bad. Looking up, he saw Melissa staring anxiously at him.

"What's your kid's name?" he asked quietly.

"Matthew."

"Matthew, you want to go down to the lobby and buy me four bottles of water? I need them for your father."

"Sure," Matthew answered, glad to be helping. Jack was unconscious, and he was really starting to worry.

Once the teen was out of the room, Owen looked apologetically at Melissa. "I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to do."

"Does he have some kind of infection? Those cuts look awful and he's already running a fever." She began to twist the edge of the bed sheet. The only consolation she had was that Jack was unconscious at the moment, which meant he wasn't feeling any pain.

"It's not an infection; it's a poison. One I've never seen before," he admitted reluctantly. "The best I can do is patch him up, and give him a broad spectrum anti-venom and anti-toxin, which may or may not help." When she didn't reply, he gently added, "We should get him to hospital."

"No," she barked. "You're not taking him anywhere." Seeing he was about to protest, she added, "If you don't know what it is or how to treat it, then they won't have a clue. He can stay here."

"Ms. Morgan-"

"It's Melissa, Melissa Harkness, and Jack is staying right here." She looked at him with steel in her eyes, daring him to refute her.

Why the hell did he have to make all the difficult decisions? "Fine, he can stay here, for the moment. You have to be realistic, though; this poison could kill him."

"Jack's tougher than you think," she retorted. She wanted to curl into a little ball and cry, but she knew that wouldn't help. Blinking back tears, she anxiously watched Owen work.

"Owen? What are you doing here? I told Melissa I'd be fine." Jack forced his eyes open after feeling the pinch of the third injection into his side.

"Lucky for you, your wife doesn't listen, then." He gave Melissa a quick glance before talking to his boss. "Whatever attacked you, it had some nasty poison in its claws. You wouldn't know what happened to it, would you?"

Thinking furiously, Jack replied, "It's dead. I shot it, but not before it got a good swipe. It was late and I was having a bit of trouble, so I threw it in one of those dumpsters behind a restaurant near the Quay. Don't remember which one." By the time he was finished talking, he was gasping for air, and the medic didn't like his sudden gray pallor one bit.

When Matthew knocked loudly on the door and Melissa left to open it, Jack struggled to speak. "I'll be fine. Takes more than a little poison to bother me." He was gasping for breath, however, and both he and Owen knew his words to be a lie.

Seeing that Melissa was quietly talking to her son, Owen whispered back. "What the fuck am I supposed to do? I'm bloody useless, that's what!"

"Find that alien; find the antidote. Not a problem." Jack tried to smile to let Owen know he was teasing, but it only came out as a grimace.

As if grasping a lifeline, the medic jumped on his boss' suggestion. "That actually sounds like a decent plan for once, Captain. Just hang in there, Jack. I'll have that antidote in no time."

But Jack's eyes were closed again, and checking his pulse, Owen realized that he had less time than he thought. He raced out of the room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa held Jack's hand, tears falling unchecked down her face. Dr. Harper had been by about an hour ago to inject him with the new antidote, but she knew it was too little, too late, even if Owen did not. His lungs had been filling with fluid even then, and it was just a matter of time before he would take his last breath. Not last, she tried to console herself, but the thought of his resurrection did nothing to ease her grief.

He had suffered so much, and she had had to put on a Pollyanna smile and insist to her children that he would be fine. After Susan had brought new clothes for him, Melissa had ordered her kids from the room, demanding that they stay in hers until Jack was better.

Susan had eagerly complied; she had no desire to see a repeat of Colorado, where she had gone off to school in the morning thinking Jack healthy only to return in the afternoon to find the Doctor desperately performing open heart surgery on him in the living room. Matthew had all but mutinied, however, and she had let him stay until Dr. Harper's last visit. She didn't want her son to see Jack die, no matter how temporary that state may be. Matthew had left quietly, tears in his eyes, believing her promises to be a lie.

Holding Jack's hand, she watched each breath become successively shallower, until, at last, they simply stopped. She counted to a thousand, not knowing what to expect, but his body remained still. There was a tiny part of her mind screaming that he was dead and would stay that way, but she refused to listen to herself. He had promised he'd be alright, and she'd sit by him holding his hand until he was.

Coming back to life with a gasp, the first thing Jack realized was that someone was holding his hand. He hated coming back alone; often he had no idea where he was or how he had died. Focusing, he saw Melissa's tear-stained face hovering anxiously above him.

"I didn't mean to put you through that."

Sniffling, she asked, "What? You planned on dying by yourself in a dark corner somewhere?"

He looked uncomfortable enough for her to know she had guessed the truth. "Don't you dare, Jack Harkness! Not on my watch! Just, don't you dare." She started sobbing then, the relief that it was all over and the horror of knowing what had occurred overwhelming her.

Sitting up, he wrapped her in a hug, tears falling down his own face. It had been a very long time since anyone had cared about what happened to him, and he was touched by her loving concern. After a while, she pulled back and wiped the tears off his face with her hand. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured her tenderly. "Just not used to anybody caring that much about me." He paused to take in her blotchy face. "Are you okay? You understood no matter what happened, I'd be fine, right?" He gave her a nervous smile.

"You weren't fine," she replied miserably, her voice still catching as she calmed. "You were in pain and you couldn't breathe and there wasn't anything I could do to help except sit here and tell everyone you'd be alright, even though Dr. Harper and Matthew thought I was crazy. And I'm so sorry you had to go through all that, Jack. It's just not fair."

He kissed her gently on the lips. "You held my hand, and that was enough. I haven't thought about it like this in a very long time, but if my inability to die means I don't have to leave you, then it's worth it. I love you, Melissa Morgan."

She beamed at him until she remembered what she had said to Owen, and then her entire face reddened. Suddenly self-conscious, she confessed her lapse in judgment. "I told Owen that I was Melissa Harkness. I'm sorry, Jack, I didn't mean to cause you trouble."

His kiss this time was passionate and demanding, leaving her breathless. "Forget Owen; does this mean you've made up your mind to stay?"

"Well, I haven't talked to Susan and Matthew," she began, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" she called out hesitantly, feeling like she had been caught doing something wrong.

"Damn it, Melissa, open this door!" Owen was in no mood for games.

They shared a look, and instantly Melissa knew that Jack didn't intend to tell the doctor about his inability to die, although she had no idea how he expected to manage that. Quickly, he got back into bed, feigning sleep as she slowly walked to the door.

Owen was pounding angrily on the door by the time she opened it. He took one look at her face and his heart sank. "The antidote isn't working, is it?"

Sniffing, she assured him, "No, no, it's working great. He's much better; I think he's asleep now rather than unconscious. I just, I guess I kind of fell apart once I realized how close it was."

"Understandable," he told her gruffly. It had been such a long time since he had actually wanted to comfort someone that he wasn't sure he remembered how. Moving back to familiar ground, he told her, "I'll just go see for myself how's he doing, and then we can talk about moving him into the Hub."

Tense, she gave him a thin smile. Owen was in for a big shock. Listening to Jack's chest, the doctor happily reported, "That anti-toxin must be extremely effective, even his lungs are clear. I have to admit I was worried about pneumonia a few hours ago, but everything seems fine."

Jack opened his eyes, pretending to be confused. "Owen? What the hell is going on? Where am I?"

"You, Captain, are a very lucky man," the medic answered with a satisfied smirk. "Even though you managed to get poisoned by an extremely nasty alien, I managed to come up with the antidote that saved your life."

"Humble as ever, Dr. Harper?"

"He deserves it, Jack," Melissa snapped, her tone severe. "You were at death's door a few hours ago. The least you could do is be thankful." It was easy to act in front of Owen, she thought. Maybe they could convince him after all. Rubbing her forehead, she mouthed 'thank you' to Dr. Harper.

Contrite, Jack apologized. "Sorry, Owen, I don't remember much and I'm incredibly tired.

"No problem," he replied, surprised, but pleased by Melissa's praise. Intending to take a look at Jack's injuries, Owen pulled back the sheet. "Bloody Hell! How did those cuts heal? That's not from the anti-toxin. What the fuck's going on?"

Suddenly, Melissa was in front of him, holding his medical scanner. "I did it while Jack was sleeping. You left this last time. It's a Trass Model IV handheld medical scanner. Comes from the planet Splack. Very clever, those Splacknoids; they made stuff to last. No wonder this is working perfectly even after falling through the rift. At least sixty-second century, but that's not important right now. What's important is those Splacknoids liked to give their customers value for the money spent. Now, you're using it as a scanner and an analyzer, which is all very well and good, but if you take off the outer casing and rewire the analyzer, you get a nifty little device that can modify rather than analyze."

At Owen's look of incomprehension, she added, "So, for all the dumb apes not following along, I turned the medical scanner into a small dermal regenerator and fixed Jack's side, although he'll be feeling very sore for a few days. It's not powerful enough to be anything other than a dermal regenerator. And don't worry, I put it back together for you, Owen. Now, you need to know what else this fine piece of equipment is capable of . . . ."

Jack held back a chuckle as Melissa's bullshit completely confused his medic. He never suspected she was that good of an actress, but she sure had Owen fooled. As her explanation became more technical, however, and he realized it made a certain amount of sense, he became frightened. She had been talking for a while, and it didn't look like she was going to stop. Where was she getting her information, though?

"Melissa, stop!" His command had no effect. Out of bed in an instant, he grabbed his wife, who suddenly crumpled in his arms.

Picking up the scanner from the floor, Owen ran it over her. "I've never seen anything like this, Captain. The electrical impulses in her brain are off the scale."

"Are they decreasing?" he asked anxiously.

"Slowly. They should be back to normal in a few minutes. Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" He waited impatiently for his boss to speak.

Weary in a way that had nothing to do with his former injuries, Jack rested his head against the bedside table. "It's hard to explain. She's a really strong telepath, although she doesn't know that. Occasionally, she inadvertently reaches into someone's mind and starts pulling out thoughts. It doesn't hurt them, but a human brain's not built for type of ability. Any time it happens, the neurons in her brain start to fire in an effort to compensate. Eventually, her body shuts down in as it tries to limit the damage to her mind. I just don't understand where she got those particular ideas."

Owen thought about Jack's explanation for a while before commenting. "I can't pretend I understand how she does what you just described, but you do know how incredibly dangerous it is, don't you?"

"Yes." Jack kissed her forehead, wishing she would wake.

Awkwardly, Owen asked, "Is this why you and she aren't together?"

Jack leveled his gaze at his medic, wondering if he remembered anything from their trip to Colorado. "I didn't want anyone from Torchwood witnessing what you just did, Owen. They would have taken her and made her into some kind of science experiment."

Checking her pulse, Owen pressed his boss. "You are Torchwood now for all intents and purposes, Captain."

"That's why she's thinking about staying. Her episodes are getting more frequent and the kids are getting scared." He stopped speaking as she began to stir.

As she groggily opened her eyes, he peered at her worriedly. "Hey, Sweetheart, you had a migraine. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Tired," she mumbled.

"Melissa, Honey? Do you know where you are?" Jack was uneasy; she had never been this dazed after waking from one of her blackouts.

Clinically, Owen checked her vital signs. "Don't push her, Jack. She needs to rest. Let's get her to bed."

Owen made a move to help, but the Captain refused his assistance and picked her up by himself. He laid her in the bed closest to the window and despairingly sat on its edge.

Owen took a good look at the two of them and came to a decision. "I don't want to see you until Monday. Get some rest and take care of her. We'll manage without the great Captain Jack Harkness for a few days."

Flashing an appreciative grin, Jack thanked Owen. "You sure? Wouldn't want to come back and find that Gwen's taken over running the place." As Owen shook his head in exasperation, he added sincerely, "Thanks, I guess I could use the downtime."

Nodding, Owen turned to leave, but decided to impart one more warning before he went. "I don't care why you told her she had a migraine, but I want to make one thing absolutely clear to you, Captain. What your wife went through tonight was much more akin to a stroke than a headache, although it looks like there will be no permanent impairment. Let her rest, and don't press her about what she does or does not remember."

Subdued, Jack simply nodded as he watched Owen walk out the door. He was suddenly more frightened than he had been all day long. Quietly, he picked up the phone, ringing Melissa's room in the hope that Susan and Matthew would be there.

Matthew anxiously picked up on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Matthew."

"Dad! You sound a whole lot better." The teen relaxed as soon as he heard Jack's voice.

"Feeling much better, too," he assured him, and then turned serious. "Matt, your mom's had a blackout. She's going to be fine, but she needs to rest; we both do."

"Okay," the boy responded, his anxiety returning.

Hearing his concern, Jack tried to reassure him. "Hey, it's going to be okay; I promise. We just need some sleep." Glancing at the clock, he noticed it was almost eight. "Tell you what, you two stay in your mom's room tonight. Order room service if you haven't eaten; watch movies, whatever. I'll call you in the morning. Susan doing okay?"

Matthew glanced at Susan, who was pretending to read a magazine. "She was a little upset, but she's doing okay. I'll tell her you're better."

"Fantastic. I'll call you in the morning, okay, Matt?"

"Sure, Dad; see you soon."


	18. Threats and Promises

Author's Notes - I tend to make up the Who universe as I go along, and this chapter is no exception. In case your wondering, I took a name I had heard from the Sarah Jane Adventures and gave it to the girl in Torchwood who reads the tarot cards. I'd also like to thank Mary Matthesen for the review, which I tried to reply to, but I'm not sure it actually worked since for some reason I was unable to log in. No, the fob watch is not a red herring. It will feature prominently in future chapters. Thanks for reading!

* * *

><p>Melissa woke with a strangled cry, sitting up abruptly in bed as she rubbed her forehead.<p>

"You're okay. It was just a nightmare." Jack massaged her neck and head until he could feel her relax. "Better?"

"That was horrible, Jack. I dreamt someone was killing you, over and over and over again. He hates you so much; he wants to hurt any way he can. The bastard's jealous." The sheet was in a tight wad beneath her hands and her eyes were unfocused.

"It was just a dream," he soothed. "Probably a reaction to everything you went through yesterday. I'm sorry."

Testily, she replied, "Don't apologize for dying in front of me again. We've already been through that."

He felt relieved, and slightly guilty that he was relieved. She had not forgotten much if she remembered that. "You had a migraine," he reluctantly informed her, knowing how angry she would be if he kept it from her.

"Did I lose much?" Her head still throbbed, and she wished she could take something for the pain.

"Do you remember Owen's visit?"

"No, but I remember a knock at the door. Was that him?"

"Yeah." Remembering Owen's admonishment to let her rest, he suggested, "Why don't you go back to sleep."

She refused, however. In the end, they both took showers, Melissa putting on the same clothes she had worn the day before and Jack sporting the jeans and green t-shirt Susan had bought for him. It was strange to be wearing normal clothes; when he became head of Torchwood III, he had stopped trying to fit in with the latest fashions, opting instead to wear a uniform reminiscent of the Second World War. Though, looking at Melissa, his new clothes also seemed very right.

"It's only four, I doubt Matthew and Susan would appreciate being woken up this early."

He was sitting in the chair, watching her carefully comb the tangles from her hair. It was slowly drying on its own, curling into ringlets that he thought looked entirely too sexy. And, she was wearing a light blue cashmere sweater that buttoned up the front-buttons which begged to be undone. Besides, it was cashmere; he had always had a thing for cashmere.

She looked at him to make a comment, but forgot what she was going to say as she felt the intensity of his gaze. A speculative grin slowly appeared on her face, and she carefully put down the comb. "Got any suggestions on how to pass the time?"

He grinned back; she must not be that tired. "I can think of a few."

"Only a few?" She smirked playfully, but her cheeks were already flushed in anticipation.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack woke instantly from a half-formed nightmare, carefully untangling himself from Melissa. She looked stunning lying there with her tangled auburn hair and rosy cheeks, her naked body relaxed in slumber. He admired the view as he remembered how incredible she had been just a few hours ago. Holding her in his arms afterwards had been just as satisfying.

Running his hand down her back, he felt her stretch languidly, a contented smile appearing on her waking face. As he traced his fingers down her spine, however, the smile turned into a frown. "What's the matter?"

"Jack, how long have we known each other?"

He answered without thinking. "I've know you for a very long time, but how long have we been together? I don't know, two, three years?"

Running her fingers through her hair, she kissed his forehead and then gazed into his eyes. "Five months, Jack. One when we first got to Colorado. Three before we married and one in Cardiff."

He smiled, but his stomach was twisting. "Are you worried we're taking things too quickly?"

Her denial was swift. "God, no! It's weird; I feel like I've known you forever. Last night was incredible, and even though I'm extremely saddle sore, when you touch me, all I can think about is how much I want you inside me. I love being with you. I love how you smile; I love your sense of humor; I love how protective you can be without smothering me; I love talking to someone who questions this world just as much as I do. And yesterday when you were suffering, I couldn't stop wishing that I could kill the bastard that did that to you with my bare hands. All of a sudden I feel like my life before Colorado was some sort of dream, and I've never felt so alive."

"We'll call an estate agent tomorrow. This can work, Melissa. I know it can."

"Jack, are you sure? You've made a life for yourself here that the kids aren't going to understand. I know it's been a really long time for you, but they still think we're married."

His mouth suddenly went dry. "Don't you?"

"I don't know. Do you love Ianto?"

He didn't know what to say, but the look on his face must have given something away because tears well in her eyes. "You've moved on, and I can't be angry about that, not after watching you suffer like you did. I love you, Jack. I'm so glad you've found-."

He stopped her with a desperate kiss before she could finish that sentence. "Don't do this, please. You're the only one that ever mattered. You're my wife. I love you."

She didn't answer for a long time as she tried to make sense of her conflicting emotions. She loved Jack, in every sense of the word. Knowing he was from the fifty-first century and facing immortality, she made a tremendous effort to see things from his perspective. She would die one day, and he would live on. She didn't want or expect him to close his heart to others. Trite as it seemed, she wanted him to be happy. Understanding that, her own perspective radically changed.

"Let me ask you one thing, Jack. Is it actually possible for you to be discreet?"

He'd been so ready to promise her anything to get her to stay that it took him a moment to understand her meaning. When he did, he didn't quite believe it. "You'd be willing?"

She responded dryly. "Well, I'm not proposing a threesome, if that's what you think." Sobering immediately, she tried to explain. "I don't want an open relationship. I'm much too old fashioned for that. But, you're almost hundred and fifty years older since our wedding. Even I wouldn't take celibacy that far, and it's obvious you care for him. If you can keep it from the kids, then I'm willing to call Ianto the exception to the monogamy rule."

Stunned, he searched her face, but it was clear that she was serious. "I can't begin to tell you how much I love you, you know."

"I know. But you can show me."

That was a challenge he had no trouble accepting.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Dad! You look great! Guess that Dr. Harper's okay. He even healed those cuts on your side." Matthew was chattering enthusiastically as Susan stood beside him taking in the condition of the room.

"Maybe we shouldn't have bothered them, Matt." She looked past Jack to stare uncomfortably at her mother, who was obviously naked under the sheet haphazardly wrapped around her.

"Why not?" Matthew asked, clueless as usual to anything that wasn't in front of his face.

"No problem," Jack assured them both, knowing they must have been anxious to see for their own eyes that both he and Melissa were alright. "Come on in, but be quiet, your mom's still sleeping."

Entering the room, even Matthew looked a little stunned when he took a good look at his mother. "Um, Dad, I know you're from a different time and all, but there are some things a kid shouldn't see, and their mom sleeping in the nude after, well, after whatever is one of those things."

"It's called sex, Matt," Jack answered with a grin. "Even in this time, they do teach about sex in school, don't they?" Before the boy could answer, Jack put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I promise when we get a house you won't have to worry about any indecent displays."

"A house? Does that mean Mom's decided to stay?" Susan looked shocked, although her brother looked very excited at the idea.

We've been talking about it," he allowed with a sheepish grin. "What do you think?"

"I think it's awesome, Dad! This is so cool!" His initial exuberance spent, Matthew turned more somber. "When Mom kicked me out of here yesterday, I thought I wasn't going to see you again." He shrugged his shoulders as if to say no big deal, but his eyes were shiny.

Jack wrapped his arms around Matthew, choking back unexpected tears. "You can't get rid of me that easily, son."

Wiping his eyes, the teen pulled away, smiling self-consciously. Turning to Susan, Jack remarked nervously, "You haven't said what you think."

"I think we both want to hear how you'd feel about moving to Cardiff, Susan." As her children's attention had been completely focused on Jack, Melissa had taken the opportunity to hastily pull on her jeans and sweater.

"I don't know. I want you to be happy, Mom, and I do like Jack, but I'm a junior. Jose wants me to go to prom with him. I don't know anybody here. And what if Jack gets killed? You're not still going to pretend he works at the tourist office, are you?" She stared at her lap, knowing her brother was giving her ugly looks.

"Those are all valid concerns, Sue," her mother assured her. If you really want to finish high school in Colorado, I'm sure we can find a way." Putting her hand on her daughter's shoulder, she finished quietly, "But I've decided that the best thing for me is to be with Jack in Cardiff. I hope you make the same decision for yourself, but you don't have to make that decision right now."

Susan swallowed noisily, feeling extremely uncomfortable. "You won't be mad if I decide to stay there?"

"No. Are you telling me you don't want to stay here?"

"I don't know what I want," she admitted miserably. I don't want to leave you or Matt, but I finally found some friends, and I don't know what to do. Why does anything have to change?"

"I think we should all get dressed and get something to eat, and that's all the decisions anyone needs to make right now, okay?" Melissa hoped her daughter would feel better about moving given some time to think it over.

"Yeah." Susan looked around the room bleakly, wishing she didn't have to make a decision at all. Couldn't her mom just wait until she graduated?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack moved them to the penthouse suite of the Marriott that day, deciding that it was time for a fresh start. He showed them the five houses he had bought in Cardiff at various times during his long residency, but all five were unacceptable for different reasons. Losing no time, he swiftly hired an estate agent, who helped the four of them find a roomy house in an affluent neighborhood of Barry. Even Susan reluctantly endorsed their choice after seeing the number of teenage boys who lived on their street.

Two days later, Owen insisted on examining both of them, but agreed to do so at the hotel. After begrudgingly declaring them quite healthy, he reluctantly agreed to go out to dinner with all of them. He didn't think he would enjoy spending an evening with two snotty teenagers, but he was shocked to find that they were polite and mildly entertaining. Plus, he enjoyed spending time with Melissa; she was funny, amusing and sexy as hell. If she weren't so devoted to his boss, he definitely would have propositioned her. However, he did have some self-preservation skills, so he kept those thoughts private. Dinner wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it would be, and it kept him from spending another night pissed wondering why Diane had chosen to leave him.

Relaxing in the sitting area of their suite after Owen had left, Matthew asked Jack about something that had been bothering him for a while. "So, how come you didn't recognize Dr. Harper at the school, Dad?"

Jack sat on the sofa, his arm around Melissa, trying to think of a way to explain the school without bringing up his immortality. "It has to do with time travel, Matt. After the Doctor left me, I teleported back to Earth, but I was too far in the future to teleport accurately, so I ended up getting here a few years too early. The people from Torchwood found me, and I agreed to work for them. I became the head of Torchwood in Cardiff in 2000 and hired Dr. Harper shortly after that."

"How come you didn't come see us?" the boy interrupted with a hurt look on his face.

"Well, you weren't in Colorado until May of 2005, so I couldn't come see you in 2000, could I?" Reluctantly, Matthew agreed as Jack finished lightly, "Besides, I think even your mom would have gotten tired of two of me."

"As head of Torchwood Cardiff, I get to read monthly UNIT reports. One month, they sent a picture of a spaceship found in Colorado. The spaceship contained eighteen landing pods, and I recognized it immediately; it was the Parflican ship. I knew we hadn't killed eighteen Parflicans, so I thought you might be in danger. I took Owen to Colorado to track the other aliens down."

"How'd he end up at the school?" Even Susan was caught up in the story.

Jack stared into the distance, remembering. "We got there too late. I tracked the signal straight to the school, but we pulled up into the front just as the bell was ringing and the attack began. We ran into the building and found several of them in the theater and cafeteria, and managed to kill all of them but one. We were separated, and Owen ended up in the hallway with all of you. He didn't realize that I was a different Jack; he just assumed I was the same person he walked in with."

He smiled ruefully, glancing apologetically at all of them, "I never have remembered exactly what happened in that hallway, but when Matt told me that the person who treated me knew who I was, I could only assume he was from the Time Agency. I couldn't put any of you in that danger."

Upset, the teen spilled his soda. "It's my fault you couldn't stay."

Ignoring the mess on the glass coffee table, Melissa spoke up. "None of it was your fault, Matt. Jack saved us twice, and if he hadn't been at Torchwood, it would have created a paradox. If he hadn't left, he couldn't have read that UNIT report. And if he hadn't read that UNIT report, he couldn't have killed the other Parflicans, or brought Owen, who saved his life."

Suddenly noticing the spill, she went into the kitchenette to find some towels. Returning, she had a horrible epiphany. "Jack! You created a closed loop! No wonder the TARDIS wouldn't land any time near you on Satellite Five. The Doctor couldn't pick you up because you were already working for Torchwood when you saved us."

He stared at her, completely astounded. He had never looked upon his actions in that way. If he thought about it at all, he was simply relieved that he had been able to keep them safe. She was right, though; he had actually ensured the Doctor couldn't go back for him. Hell yes, he was still resentful the Doctor had left him in the first place, but he had to acknowledge that the Time Lord had tried in good faith to return.

"I guess that puts Satellite Five in a different light," he admitted quietly. Subdued by their realizations, everyone half-heartedly tried to watch television together, but they all ended up going to be very early that night.

Once the door to their bedroom was closed, Melissa enveloped him in a fierce hug. "I'm sorry. You saved us twice and all you got out of it was a hundred years of waiting."

"I got you," he told her sincerely. "And that makes every year worth it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Peering out into the foggy bay, Jack was momentarily lost in his memories. He had taken Melissa to the same restaurant where he, the Doctor, Rose and Mickey had eaten lunch all those years ago. It was a celebration; he had signed the papers for the house that morning; Susan had agreed to stay; and the kids were spending the day attending classes at Cardiff International School to see if they liked it. He was taking Melissa to Torchwood after lunch to make the announcement that she would be staying, and he would be moving out of the Hub.

If there was any smudge on his perfect day, it was wondering about Ianto's reaction. Melissa had assured him that nothing needed to change as long as he was extremely discreet, but he had his doubts that Ianto would feel the same. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he would have to admit that he didn't particularly care either way. When he had married Melissa, he had made certain promises to her, and he was still somewhat surprised at her tolerance.

They were chatting about dessert when she grabbed her head.

"What's wrong?"

"I feel like someone's stabbing me with a knife," she confessed through clenched teeth.

Jack looked around hoping to find their waiter so he could ask for the bill, but instead he saw the Minister of Defense at the far end of the restaurant purposefully striding his way, a huge smile on his face. Shit! He had forgotten the man had scheduled a meeting for today. Well, he was just going to have to wait; she took priority.

Looking in the direction of Jack's gaze, Melissa, too, saw the Minister of Defense and the agonizing pain in her head shot through her entire body. In a moment of complete clarity, she put her hand on her husband's and gave it a harsh squeeze.

"Jack, can you go to Boots and pick up some Tylenol, or whatever non aspirin stuff they sell over here? My head hurts so much that I don't think I can walk, but I promise this isn't a migraine. We passed by Boots just a few doors down, remember?"

He regarded her with concern; suddenly, she was pale and trembling. "Be right back," he promised, all thoughts of Harold Saxon pushed from of his mind.

Melissa watched him leave with relief; then her eyes tracked the Defense Minister warily as he approached the table. The smile on the man's face fell a notch or two as he witnessed Jack's abrupt departure. "What have we here? The dashing Captain seems to have abandoned a ginger beauty. We can't have that, can we?"

He was about to sit in Jack's spot, but Melissa stopped him with a few words. "Master Saxon, I wish I could say it is good to meet you, but I'm afraid the encounter has given me something of a headache."

Harold Saxon's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're not from around here."

Smiling sweetly at him, she acknowledged, "I'm as much a native as you are."

His fists tightened as he pondered the depths of her comment. Dropping all pretense, he demanded, "Who are you and how do you know the Freak?"

"Don't call him that!" Her fists were clenched tightly now as well; it was taking all of her effort to remain conscious, the pain being so great.

Seeing he had gotten a rise from her, he gloated. "He's a freak and I've half a mind to take him and that little gang of his into custody and show the entire world just what a freak he is."

"You've never had anything more than half a mind, you bastard! You can't take him now. You'd cause a massive paradox, and I don't think you're prepared to do that just yet, are you?" Suddenly, she felt the agony of the TARDIS, begging for deliverance. Angry tears welled in her eyes as she realized she had not the power to save the brave ship.

"Who the hell are you?" He towered over her, suddenly scared that all his careful plans were going to be erased before he ever got to use them.

Standing, she poked her finger against his chest. "Me? I'm no one for you to be concerned with. However, my Mistress has a message for you. Even think about killing the Doctor and she will unmake you as easily as she brought the Daleks and their Emperor to dust. Touch Jack's team and she'll do the same. You are tiny."

Gaping at her for a moment, he finally recovered his bravado. "Your Mistress is trapped on a parallel world; I don't think I have to worry about her very much. The walls have closed, in case you were unaware."

Seething, she shot back, "The Bad Wolf held the power of the Time Vortex in her very being. She saw all that was, all that is, and all that ever can be. How can you possibly believe that she wouldn't see you?"

As she saw the fear on his face, she added with a fierce joy, "Now run, you bastard, before I decide to kill you where you stand. After all, you've never been anything other than a coward. And you are so very, very good at running."

More unnerved than he would care to admit, the Master turned heel and strode out of the restaurant, telling himself that he wasn't running, just making a strategic retreat. Already, he was making plans to kill the redhead.

Jack entered the restaurant fifteen minutes after Harold Saxon's departure, the pain reliever clutched in his hand. Hurrying to the table, he saw Melissa standing shakily, a sick look on her face. Grabbing him by the arms, she tried to warn him.

"Jack! You have to rescue her, or he's going to bring this world to its knees! And he's going to try to break you, any way he can. He hates you! Hates that you have everything he's wanted, and you're only a stupid, pathetic human. Please, you have to save her!"

"Save who? I don't understand what you're trying to tell me, Melissa!" Her eyes were unfocused and he was suddenly petrified.

Unexpectedly serene, she gazed lovingly at him, a look of wistful regret on her face. "Oh, Jack, I'm so, so sorry. Tell Susan and Matthew-"

But she never finished her thought; she sagged against him, her entire body limp.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack hated hospital rooms more than most. He had said goodbye to far too many people in such rooms to put much faith in doctors. Even Owen, who was doing the best he could, was beginning to sound like all the rest.

"It's been two weeks and not one test has shown any change in brain activity. You have to accept the fact that she's gone. Her body may be breathing and her heart pumping, but she died in that restaurant."

Wearily, he snapped. "What do you want me to do, Owen, shoot her in the head?"

Angry at his helplessness, Owen snapped right back. "Fuck, no, Captain! But you can order the feeding tube removed and you can start being honest with yourself and with your kids! Their mother is gone and the sooner you acknowledge that, the sooner you can get on with your lives."

Owen sighed heavily, knowing somewhat what his boss was going through. "Look, I'm sorry, Mate; I shouldn't have let my temper get the better of me. I know this is difficult; god knows I do, but you have two kids who need your help and it's time to move on."

Jack stared tiredly at his second in command, every painful emotion written plainly on his face. "I don't want to move on, Owen. I do nothing but move on. Finally, I thought that I could have a future again. I'm not ready to give that up."

Shocked to see him so vulnerable, the Torchwood medic awkwardly patted his back. "Shit, Jack, no one thinks you and she got a raw deal more than I do, but what about your kids? Is it fair to keep them hoping when you know it's just a lie?"

Stiffening, he understood that he was being much too selfish. "No, Owen, you're right. It's not fair to them. They should be here in an hour or so. I'll tell them today. And yes, you can withdraw the feeding tube, but keep her on fluids. Intellectually, I know she's not lying on that bed, but the thought of her dying of dehydration is too much for me to handle yet."

"Sure." Owen understood Jack's reluctance; his wife still looked like she was sleeping. Her muscles had not curled her limbs inward; her face was peaceful and breathtakingly beautiful. Jack needed time to emotionally accept what he had finally acknowledged that morning. Leaving his boss to his grief, Owen went to find the nursing staff to give the order to remove the feeding tube.

Susan and Matthew arrived later, tense and tired. Taking one look at her mother, Susan asked hopefully, "The feeding tube is out. Is she getting better?"

"No, Sue, she's not," he admitted reluctantly. "Dr. Harper was here earlier, and he explained that she's not going to get any better. All the tests they've done show that your mom isn't improving." Quietly he added as they stared at him in shock, "She's gone, but her body doesn't know that yet. I'm sorry."

They both started crying, Matthew reaching out to Jack, who cried with him, and Susan sitting forlornly in the single chair, crying by herself. Finally, she took a curious pink translucent rock out of her pocket and placed it next to her mother. "I guess this thing couldn't protect her after all."

Mildly curious, Jack looked down at the rock and then stared at Susan, incredulous. "Where'd you get that?"

Matthew answered for his sister. "This little girl gave it to Mama a few days ago, but she didn't want it. It was really kind of weird. We were walking by the water . . . .

_"Mom, we're getting drenched even with our raincoats and it's freakin' cold out here. Can't we stop in that church? It says there's a cafe inside." Matthew put just enough whine in his voice to persuade his mother that he really was miserable._

_"Wimp," she teased him playfully. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to get a cup of hot chocolate. I doubt they have any coffee that you'd like. What do you say, Sue?"_

_Susan was trying to pretend that the nasty weather wasn't bothering her, but the wind was so fierce that it was blowing the rain sideways and her jeans were soaked. "I guess if Matthew needs a break, I'll go inside."_

_Entering the converted wooden church, they were gratified to feel the warmth of central heating. The cafe was almost deserted, and Melissa quickly ordered a round of hot chocolate as they shucked their jackets, hanging them behind the chairs so they might slowly defrost from the harsh winter weather. _

_Eventually, Matthew noticed a little girl sitting in the corner playing cards by herself. When she looked up briefly, he caught her eye, giving her a friendly wave, and she smiled back. Bored, but still not willing to venture outside, he ambled over to her table. "Hey, those are tarot cards. Aren't you a little young to be playing with those?"_

_"Perhaps," the girl answered, completely unruffled._

_"Want to do one for me? You could practice." He quickly sat across from her, but even he couldn't mistake her refusal. _

_Swiftly gathering up the cards, she placed them on her lap. "That would not be wise."_

_Melissa and Susan had been watching the exchange from their table, and even at that distance, it was obvious that the girl was troubled. As a mother, Melissa wondered why a child her age would be spending the day in a cafe when she so obviously should be in school, but she also realized that the girl was young enough to think Matthew a threat, so she rose and approached the table smiling. "I'm sorry if my son bothered you. He was just trying to be friendly. We're visiting Cardiff and he enjoys talking to everyone."_

_Inexplicably, the child stood, and Melissa noticed that she was wearing a very long, old-fashioned dress. Perhaps her parents owned the cafe and home schooled her due to their religious convictions. "My lady, it is an honor to meet you. Your son has given me no offense. He asked for a reading from the Tarot, and I do not think it wise to delve into the future of one such as he."_

_Oh, Melissa thought, somewhat taken aback, not Amish then. Maybe Wiccan? "Knowing one's own future is never wise," she responded more somberly than she had intended, idly rubbing her head. Suddenly, she shivered, as if someone had stepped on her grave._

_"True, my lady, but sometimes unavoidable," the girl replied somewhat sadly. Brightening, she pulled a pink translucent stone the size of a teabag out of a hidden pocket. "A gift for you, my lady. Cardiff is not safe place when your mind is so muddled. It will protect you from harm."_

_Melissa didn't even wonder how the little girl knew of her migraines or why she was so interested in her welfare; she simply stared at the stone in horror. Inexplicably angry at herself, she replied harshly, not understanding what she was saying. "That gift is not meant for me. I do not deserve the protection you offer." Extremely distressed, she ran out into the rain, forgetting her jacket._

. . . . "So the girl gave the stone to Sue, and we hustled out of there and found Mom staring at the Bay, getting completely soaked. It was definitely a weird afternoon." Matthew looked quizzically at Jack, who continued to stare at the pink rock. "So what's so special about that hunk of rock?"

"It's amber, Matt, not a rock, and I haven't a clue, but I do know it's not from Earth."

There, he had put enough of the truth in the lie that the kids shouldn't notice. He knew exactly who the girl was-well, as much as he ever knew about that girl. She showed up at the oddest times. Still, the stone was Arcadian amber, which shouldn't even exist; he could tell by the unique patterns on the wings of the butterfly-like creatures trapped inside. However, if he remembered the legends correctly, bestowing Arcadian amber was tantamount to a sacred vow of protection by the giver. The girl would come, sooner rather than later.

Susan and Matthew left after an hour, not wanting to watch any longer than they had to. They went to WH Smith to find something to read as they planned on spending another long and lonely afternoon and evening by themselves in the hotel suite. Minutes after they departed, the mysterious child entered the room, almost as if she had been waiting for them to leave.

"I wish I could say it is good to see you, Captain, but the circumstances do not warrant it." The girl glanced at the bed, as if she needed to remind Jack why it was not a happy occasion.

Jack hated the way the girl talked. Her speech patterns suggested a maturity far beyond her apparent age, and her childishly soft voice gave her words an ominous ring no matter what she said. But then, Verran soothsayers always gave him the creeps.

"No, they don't," he agreed flatly. "And you got here too late this time, or are you waiting for me to bargain for her life?"

The girl looked at him in surprise, her brow furrowing; it was the most honest emotion he had seen from her in over a century. "I would not dare put a price on her ladyship's head, confused though that head may be. However, good knight, you will one day owe me a favor, and my payment will be this: you must accompany my lady where she does not herself wish to go."

Resolutely, she approached the bed and picked up the amber. Gently, she placed her hand on Melissa's forehead, closing her eyes in concentration. Finally, she opened her eyes, giving the still form of Melissa a brief bow.

"It is not yet too late, Captain, although I can understand why your physician would come to that conclusion. I shall bring her back to health, gladly, although I cannot heal what truly ails her mind. Only her children have that power."

Jack stared at the not-child in stunned disbelief. Getting Melissa back was too much to hope for. And all those cryptic remarks-he didn't understand any of it, but he knew she wouldn't explain further. Silently he watched her.

She placed her hands on Melissa's face, but then looked at Jack sadly. "I will heal her, Captain, but only you can decide her fate. If she stays in this city she will certainly die. Forces well beyond my ability are already hidden in plain sight, and I will not be able to protect her again."

"I'll protect her," Jack declared vehemently, ready to abandon Torchwood if necessary.

Regarding him solemnly, the girl reluctantly informed him, "Your heart is pure, good knight, but your quest is a futile one. You cannot abandon your duty to this planet in its hour of greatest need. Yet your desire to guard her is noble. I wonder if your desire would be so great if you knew that she will lead you to true death?"

"Then you don't know me very well, do you? I'd do whatever it takes to save her from harm." He was getting edgy. Was the girl going to heal her or not? What had she foreseen?

"There are many kinds of harm," she responded cryptically as she bent down to her task. It didn't take long. The girl placed her hands on Melissa's head, and, well Jack had no idea what she did; he just knew that it had worked.

Melissa sat up in bed, as if waking from a good night's rest, and looked bemusedly at the girl and Jack. "Does someone want to tell me what's going on?"

"That is for the Captain to decide," the Verran soothsayer replied gravely. "It was a privilege to be of service, my lady." With that, she walked quietly out of the room, Jack and Melissa staring at her dumbfoundedly as she left.

"I think I saw that girl at the Old Norwegian Church a few days ago," Melissa remarked conversationally. Then, she noticed her surroundings. "Jack? Why am I in a hospital?"

He was too busy clinging to her to answer her question. After a few minutes, he managed to call a stunned Owen and explain that he was checking his wife out of hospital and would be out of the Hub for a few days. Not bothering with paperwork, he walked a bewildered Melissa outside and drove as fast as he could to the Marriott. They actually beat Susan and Matthew back to the room, and the sight of the two when they saw their mother healthy and alert was rewarding enough to take some of the sting out of the girl's warnings.

Owen must have thought his boss had finally cracked, because he was pounding on the door of their suite minutes later. Insisting on a complete physical, he could give no reason for Melissa's recovery, although he was relieved to see it. As he left, Jack warned him not to speak to anyone about his wife and kids, telling Owen that they were no longer staying.

Irate at the Captain's coldness towards his own family, Owen mouthed off at his boss, who let the tension he had been feeling for the past two weeks spill over into his own speech. Once again, the medic wanted to throttle Jack for being such a complete wanker, but instead he left sullenly, his opinion of Captain Jack Harkness at an all time low.

As Owen slammed the door shut, Jack sagged against the wall, knowing that the questions would come fast and furious.

"Jack? Why did you tell Owen we're not staying? Did you decide to move to Colorado?" Puzzled, Melissa looked around the suite, noticing the general chaos the kids had made, but not really understanding it. She couldn't accept she had been in a coma for two weeks; she hadn't had the time to let it sink in her brain. Nor did she understand why Jack now seemed so devastated after being so happy about her recovery.

The teens were looking at Jack for an answer as well, and he sat wearily on the sofa, dejectedly putting his head in his hands before finally straightening. "The girl, the one you saw in the Norwegian Church, she's the one who healed you, Melissa, not the doctors. Owen told me again you were brain dead this morning, and I finally believed him.

That shocked her like nothing could. Sinking onto the sofa beside him, she rested her head against his shoulder. "I'm okay, though, right?"

Pressing a kiss against her forehead, he assured her, "You're fine, but that girl, she's not what she seems. She's well over a hundred years old. Her species is known as Verran soothsayers, and their prophecies are feared throughout the galaxy. She possesses enough time sense that she can accurately predict the future, although she's cryptic as hell and doesn't explain herself. This time, though, she was very clear about things." Bleakly, he looked at all three of them before continuing quietly. "She told me that if you stayed here, you'd die, Sweetheart."

"This isn't some sick joke, Dad? I mean, I know Sue and I must've gotten on your nerves in the last two weeks. If you don't want us anymore, you don't have to lie to Mom."

Shaken by Matthew's loss of faith, it was all Jack could do not to break down, but he took a breath and looked the teen directly in the eye. "Matt, I would never lie about something like this. Believe me; I want all of you, right here, in Cardiff with me."

The boy looked quickly away, embarrassed that he had even asked the question. Gripping Jack's arm, Melissa asked urgently, "How long did she say I had?" She, at least, had never doubted his crazy story.

"She didn't."

Susan immediately became upset. "Then we've got to get out of here now!"

"No," Melissa refuted. "I'm not sticking my tail between my legs and running blindly. I'm going to find this girl and ask her a few questions before we go."

She was prepared to search right that minute, but three pairs of anxiety ridden eyes stopped her. Trying to put herself in their shoes, she finally understood how scared they all must have been for the last two weeks. Deliberately, she softened her tone. "If this soothsayer thought I was going to die that soon, she would have said something. I think it's safe to stay a few more days, and we're going to spend most of that time looking for her. But right now, I'm starving. Let's find someplace to eat."

Still uneasy, the teens reluctantly let her change the topic. They had both made so many secret bargains with God for their mother's recovery that they would do just about anything she said just then. However, the knowledge that she had some sort of threat hanging over her made their joy at her miraculous revival more restrained than they had thought possible.

After a moment's reflection, Jack rationally agreed with Melissa's logic, but he, too, was worried about how long she could safely remain. All of them spent the next three days searching the city for the strange girl, but she was nowhere to be found, and none of the Captain's contacts had seen her. Reluctantly, Melissa had to acknowledge that she would not be able to question her. On the fourth day of her recovery, she purchased plane tickets to Colorado Springs; she and her children would leave the next morning.

Once the kids were packed, Jack sent them on an errand to get them out of the hotel. Pulling out his mobile, he explained, "I'm calling UNIT, and I'd thought you'd want to hear."

Stiffening her resolve, she said, "I think I need to be the one to make that call, but do you think you could listen in?"

Giving her a fierce hug, he offered once again to go with her to Colorado.

"You can't, and you know it."

He had explained that part of the girl's remarks privately to her on the first night, and she had accepted it as she had accepted everything else about the bizarre meeting. It was still difficult for her to believe this wasn't some sort of farce, though. She remembered walking into the restaurant with Jack to celebrate, but she couldn't remember anything else until she woke up to find that odd child leaving her hospital room. It was just too strange for comprehension. However, her nightmares had changed recently, and she suddenly felt like she was being stalked in her sleep. Maybe her subconscious was trying to tell her that she did need to get away.

The call to UNIT went much better than she had feared. They seemed quite sympathetic when she had identified herself and explained that one of their officers was making threats against her. She couldn't bring herself to spell out how sickening his threats actually were, however. Marshall, it turned out, wasn't authorized to speak to her at all, and the North American UNIT commander had assured her that he would be severely reprimanded for his actions.

Their final night together had been bittersweet. Their lovemaking was tender and passionate, but she finished the night crying in his arms, mourning the loss of another happily ever after. For his part, Jack felt like he was abandoning her when she needed him the most, and it was difficult to remain positive.

Once they were gone, the Captain returned to the Hub. Owen added Jack's abandonment of his family to a growing list of grievances against the his boss, and successfully avoided him most of the day. Jack felt more alone than he had in years. This was certainly not the time to confess the depth of his love for Melissa to Ianto, and he didn't want to be within a mile of Gwen that day. He couldn't bear the thought of her sympathetic curiosity at the moment. Shutting the door to his office, he took the keys to his new house out of his pocket and hung them carefully with several other sets on a large key holder, adding yet another broken dream to his growing collection.


	19. The New Girl

The doorbell rang just as Melissa was taking a hummingbird cake out of the oven. Dumping the cake pans on the cooling rack, she hustled out of the kitchen to answer the door, sucking on her burnt finger.

"Hullo!" the Doctor greeted her brightly as she yanked the door open. "Care for some company?"

"Doctor!" She embraced him in a warm hug. "Come on in. It must be your lucky day. I baked a cake."

An attractive, dark-skinned young woman wearing jeans and a burgundy leather jacket peeked around the porch, looking slightly unsure of herself. Melissa smiled warmly at the stranger. "Doctor, are you going to stand there being rude, or are you going to introduce me to your new companion?"

Awkwardly, the Doctor started. "Oh. Right. Yes, sorry. Melissa, Martha. Martha, Melissa. Melissa's a very good friend of mine." Martha's eyes narrowed as she wondered just what a good friend meant. She hadn't seen him bumble over his words like this since he was human and mooning over Joan Redfern.

Melissa noticed the young woman's expression, even if the Doctor did not, and tried to put the girl at ease. "Martha," she said warmly, "it's a pleasure to meet you. You must have the patience of a saint if you put up with him."

"Oi! Still in the room!" the Doctor interjected in mock protest before Martha could do more than laugh appreciatively. "You could have the courtesy of talking behind my back, you know."

Sitting at a cozy table in the kitchen, Martha watched in fascinated disgust as the Doctor ate most of a jar of Cherry preserves. She knew his manners could be appalling at times, but she had never seen any adult consume jam in that fashion before. The only reason he had not eaten the entire jar was that their hostess had insisted he wash his hands before she gave him his cup of tea.

"So," Melissa began, trying to sound casual as she iced the first layer of cake. "Just the two of you travelling right now?"

"Just us," Martha acknowledged as she sipped her Coke.

"Haven't run into any old friends?" She carefully placed the second layer on top of the first.

The Doctor glanced at her sharply. "Who do you think we might have run into?"

She shrugged while icing the second layer. "He's missing. I just thought . . . ." She trailed off, not knowing how to explain her concern for Jack without upsetting him.

Tensing, he thought about her statement. "He came back?" Twenty-first century Earth was the last place he had expected to find Jack, unless he had been looking for Melissa specifically. Still, he was curious to know how Jack was coping with his new immortality, although he was reluctant to ask outright.

"I found him," she answered shortly, trying to concentrate on placing another layer on the cake. She was getting angry all of a sudden, and although she had a good idea why, she still had a difficult time controlling it.

"Good for you," he commented quietly, amazed that she had managed it.

Icing the edges, she blurted out, "It was, and then it wasn't, and now it's just horrible! I want him back!" Shocked by her lack of control, she began to wring her hands, the cake momentarily forgotten

"I'm sorry." He was suddenly uncomfortable in the small kitchen. She didn't expect him to go searching for Jack again, did she? This was exactly why he didn't normally go back and see old friends, promises or no promises.

She was angry at herself, now. Why was she bringing this up? Taking a deep breath, she apologized brusquely. "Not your fault." Abruptly, she remembered the cake, icing the final layer. Finished, she placed the cake stand on the counter and tried to calm down.

"It's alright," he softly replied, not understanding her abrupt mood swing. Now that he had seen her, maybe he and Martha could slip out in a few hours.

She laughed mirthlessly, "No, no it's not. But I made my bed and now I have to lie in it." She had been so incredibly stupid, and that one thought shamed her almost as much as the rest.

Martha watched the exchange as one might a Wimbledon match. Melissa's volleys had been fast and furious, and it appeared to her that she and the Doctor had quite a shared history. Still, a tiff was a tiff, and if there was anything that Martha Jones was good at, it was smoothing over other people's tiffs. She had had enough practice with her family, after all.

"I don't know about you two, but I fancy a walk. How about showing me all those wild animals you were going on about earlier, Doctor."

"Martha Jones! I promised you wildlife, and wildlife you shall get. But right now, I would like another cup of tea. Why don't you go on without us?" The Doctor smiled pleasantly, but it did not reach his eyes.

His newest companion knew a dismissal when she heard one and stalked out of the house with as much grace as she could muster. If those two wanted to carry on with their row, then she would let them.

"I'm sorry," he began. "I shouldn't have—"

He was about to say he shouldn't have bothered her, but he stopped in shock as Melissa placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Sh," she whispered, pulling back to look him into his eyes. "I'm the one who should apologize. I forgave you a long time ago-you know that. I didn't mean to bring it up again. I'm just upset, about a lot of things, and seem to be taking it out on the people I care about most. Just ask the kids. Please stay. I can't tell you how happy I am to see you. And you're with someone. I want to hear all about her."

"Martha?" the Doctor asked, happy for the change of topic. "Well, I picked her up by accident, really, only meant to take her on the one trip. But she's brilliant, that Martha Jones, and in the end I couldn't help but give her a key, now could I?" The Doctor relaxed as he extolled the virtues of his new companion, relieved to see the approval on his friend's face. "She's studying to be a doctor, you know. It's been ages since I had a physician travelling with me on the TARDIS. Keeps me on my toes."

While cooking dinner, she listened happily to the Doctor as he rambled on about Martha and her family. Relieved that he had readily forgiven her, she nevertheless hated that she had lost her temper in the first place. Taking a deep breath, she attacked the vegetables for the salad, hacking them into tiny pieces.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Martha walked down the hill, past the bus stop and down a small trail that ended in a grove of aspen trees. If she was going traipsing around in the wilderness by herself, the least she could do was change into a sturdier pair of shoes. She stopped short as she saw two teens knocking enthusiastically on the TARDIS door.

"What do you think you're doing?" Martha asked in her most authoritative voice.

"Trying to get in," the tall, handsome lad cheekily replied. "You must be the replacement. Has he given you a key?"

"I'm no one's replacement," Martha replied frostily as she studied the two figures.

"Don't be stupid, Matthew," the girl argued. "No one could ever replace Rose, but she may have a key." "I'm Susan, by the way," the girl added in a polite afterthought.

"I'm Martha," she answered back, slightly irritated that the two miscreants had known the great Rose Tyler.

"Is the Doctor at the house?" Susan asked the stranger as she tried to ignore Matthew, who was staring at the back of Martha's tight jeans.

"If your mother's name is Melissa, then he's having a cup of tea in your kitchen."

"Fantastic! Brilliant! Molto Bene!" Matthew instantly recognized that his Doctor imitation was setting the new girl's teeth on edge. He continued mercilessly. "Allons-y, Susan, Martha, allons-y!"

"Is your brother always this annoying?" Martha asked Susan in exasperation as they trudged up the hill. Matthew had run his fingers through his hair enough times to give it that spiky, mussed look that the Doctor often wore.

"Unfortunately."

Martha nodded and tried to concentrate on walking quickly. It didn't help her mood when the Doctor met them just outside the door and gave the two teens an enthusiastic bear hug. Hadn't he told her he hated hugs on more than one occasion? She didn't get a hug as they all piled in the door, happily talking all at once.

Coming out of the kitchen, Melissa hugged both her children tightly. "I made hummingbird cake and crawfish etouffee." In a soft voice she added, "Everything's normal."

Exuberant, Matthew lifted his mother in the air as he yelled, "Fantastic!" Embarrassed, Melissa demanded to be put down, only to have Susan crush her in a teary hug.

"What's all this?"

"You're just in time for the party!" Matthew exclaimed happily, ignoring the silent plea from his mother. "It's been three months since Mom's stroke and the neurologist just gave her a clean bill of health!"

Stunned, the Doctor turned towards her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged. "I got a clean bill of health."

"Melissa," he reproved, ready to do his own examination then and there.

She stopped him with a look. "Let's all just enjoy tonight, please. I'll let you drag me into the TARDIS later, if that will make you happy."

He readily acquiesced, deciding that his exam would best be done in private, away from the prying eyes of her children. Pasting on his most congenial smile, he regaled his audience with his tale of meeting Shakespeare. Martha even added a few details that he had purposefully forgotten.

The only awkward moment came when Matthew piped up, "Hey, we went to Anne Hathaway's cottage with Dad a few months ago."

The Doctor merely raised an eyebrow saying, 'Oh really?' as Susan elbowed her brother in the ribs, and Melissa reddened. Martha wondered why the reference to Matthew's father had temporarily stopped the dinner conversation, but she was too busy enjoying the salad and garlic bread to voice a question.

By ten o'clock, the Doctor and Matthew were facing each other over a chessboard while Susan, Martha and Melissa played a game of Scrabble on the floor of the den. "Your game has improved greatly, Matthew," the Doctor praised as he finally put the boy's king in check-mate."

"Still lost, though," the teen replied graciously as they joined the group playing Scrabble on the floor.

"Well, I have had a bit more practice than you. Have I ever told you about the time I played chess with Richard III?" Becoming distracted as he glanced down at the Scrabble score pad, he exclaimed, "Blimey, Melissa! You seem to be wiping the table with your score tonight. Maybe we should play later; I love a good game of Scrabble."

"You cheat. I'm not playing Scrabble with someone who insists on using a galactic dictionary as the official word list." Melissa managed to get rid of her 'x' tile by playing the word pox on the board and scoring another 28 points.

"Oi! That was only the one time. Besides, it looks like you could use the disadvantage." The Doctor watched Martha play the word parlour off of Melissa's pox and noted with approval that neither of her opponents challenged the British spelling.

"That's it; I'm done for," Susan finally said as she played her last tile and totaled up the score. Melissa had beaten both Martha and her daughter by over a hundred points each.

"Smart as ever, Mom," Matthew noted proudly as the final tally was announced. "You'd never know you spent two weeks in a coma."

There was an awkward pause as Matthew dropped that bombshell. His mother was infuriated; the little squirt had done that on purpose. Her friend was liable to have her sitting in that uncomfortable chair in the infirmary for hours if she wasn't careful, and she didn't think she could stand up to that much scrutiny. Martha stared at her hostess wondering how anyone had recovered so quickly from such a serious medical condition.

"Yes, well," the Doctor finally commented, hoping that Melissa could keep her temper in check. "Thank you for the information, Matthew. Anything else you think I need to know about your mother?"

"Still in the room." Melissa echoed her friend's earlier words with a touch of humor.

"She's been sleepwalking," Susan unexpectedly offered in a very small voice.

This time, Melissa's face turned redder than her hair, and her hands balled into tight fists. "I AM STILL IN THE ROOM!" she bellowed, finally losing her cool. "And I would appreciate it if you two would stop sharing intimate details of my private life with anyone else, including the Doctor. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," they both replied meekly, in unison.

"Well, glad that's settled, then," the Doctor finally commented as the silence stretched a little too long. Thoughts of leaving early long gone, he asked, "Mind if Martha kips on your sofa tonight? I'm knackered. Think I'll head off to bed soon."

Unconsciously, he began to run his fingers through his hair. Melissa often thought it was a cute habit, but tonight it just emphasized the hidden signs of exhaustion on his face.

Quickly recovering her good manners, she warmly answered, "She can sleep in Susan's room. No need to exile anyone to the sofa. That is, if you don't mind, Martha."

"Of course not," Martha quickly replied. "It's got to be better than sleeping with the Doctor in Elizabethan England. No bed bugs for one thing."

"Great." Susan ground out, trying to sound much more enthusiastic than she felt.

As Martha, Matthew and Susan disappeared down the hall, the Doctor idly studied the pictures on the fridge. There was a new picture of Jack, but he couldn't make out where it had been taken. The Captain looked wearier than he had ever seen him.

It hurt him, even now, to think about Jack. How could he explain to his friend that Rose had loved him so much that she couldn't bear to see him dead? Her gift of everlasting life would become a horrible curse, if it hadn't already. Although young by Time Lord standards, the Doctor keenly felt the weight of every decision made, the pain of every loss. Sometimes, his only solace was the knowledge that one day it would all end. One day, there would be no more pain, no more decisions to make. He couldn't not offer that solace to Jack. He didn't have the power. He didn't know anyone who did.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he looked at his hostess. "I see we've cleared the room. I could still beat you at Scrabble if you're not too tired."

She smiled at his confidence. "I'm going to savor my win for a while longer. Besides, I'm tired. Are you going to sleep at all tonight?"

"For at least a few hours," he admitted. "Trips in the TARDIS haven't been too relaxing lately." He smiled in that self-deprecating way of his to show her nothing was amiss.

Not believing him for an instant, she asked, "How are you doing, really?"

"I'm fine. Really. Honestly, Melissa, I'm fine." She glared at him with the same face she used on the kids when she knew they were lying. Finally, he began to pace and rub the back of his neck. She waited patiently for him to stop, never once pressing for another answer.

Slowly, he stilled his body and then hesitantly looked her in the eye. "I'm doing better," he assured her solemnly. "Have my ups and downs. But everyone has ups and downs. Expected, isn't it? Fascinating phrase, though, I mean, ups and downs. Sounds like a roller coaster. Now, there's something Martha and I could do! We could compare roller coasters throughout history! Make a list of the top ten of all time. Bet she'd love that. Did you know that humans are the only species that build roller coasters?" He was once again all manic energy, the speed of his thoughts flying out of his mouth, but she wasn't fooled for an instant.

Arms crossed, waiting for the Doctor to take a breath, she finally managed to get a word in edgewise. "Do I have to kiss you again to get you to stop talking?"

"What? No! 'Course not! I mean, I can stop talking whenever I want." Nervously he asked, "You don't actually want to kiss me again, do you?"

This time she laughed heartily. "If I knew how much easier it would be to tease you in this regeneration, I would have started much earlier. You look positively jumpy!"

"Oi! A little respect here!"

"Always," she shot back with a smile.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor was drinking a cup of tea and eating a rather generous helping of hummingbird cake when Melissa trudged blearily into the kitchen. Ignoring the clock, which read two-fifty-eight, she grabbed the still hot kettle from the stove and poured water into her mug of powdered chocolate. "Any cake left?" she asked as she got out a plate.

He uncovered the cake to indicate the leftovers. Not bothering with a knife, she picked up the remaining slice with her fork and a finger stuck on top of the icing. Licking her finger, she sat down across from the Doctor and began to eat.

"Sugar's not the best substitute for sleep, you know, especially for a human."

"I'm sure you speak from years of experience, but I've found it helps occasionally." Melissa continued to slowly eat her cake, savoring every bite. "Besides, if I don't eat it now, I wouldn't get another chance. Matthew will be up in a few hours.

"You could go back to sleep. I promise to save it for you."

"NO!"

Surprised at the vehemence in her refusal, he asked sympathetically, "Do you want to talk about your nightmares?"

"Do you?" she challenged as she ate another bite.

"Point taken," he acknowledged with a small smile. "We could nip to the TARDIS, take a few scans and be back before anyone is the wiser. That is, unless you have plans at three o'clock in the morning?"

"Nice try." Studying her mug, she reluctantly admitted, "The kids get nervous if they wake up and I'm not in the house."

"Well, then, we'll just have to find something to do until they wake up." He wondered how many times Susan had found her mother outside sleepwalking. The girl did not usually breech her mother's confidence; that was her brother's job.

"I know! You can take me up on that game of Scrabble."

"I'm doomed," she groaned theatrically while retrieving the game from the den.

"Ladies first."

Gleefully, Melissa laid down all seven of her tiles. "Paradox. Looks like I'm going to continue my winning streak."

"Overconfidence can be deadly, just ask Julius Caesar," he quipped as he played the word noble off the letter O. He really needed some better consonants.

"His best friend betrayed him. I think his problem was he was a bad judge of character rather than overconfidence. Melissa bit her lip as she rearranged her tiles on her tray. "Ha! Twice in a row," she crowed as she played the word temporal off the P in paradox.

Distracted from the history lesson by the lopsided score, the Doctor scrutinized the board. "What did I say about overconfidence?" he asked as he also managed to use all his tiles by spelling the word threaten.

"Games aren't fun without a challenge," Melissa retorted as she played the word evil.

Good-natured jibes flew across the table as the two raced to out-score the other. By the end of the game, the Doctor had overtaken Melissa's score by two points. "Overconfidence, gets them every time," he gloated as she revealed the final score.

"Congrats. Winner picks up." Resting her elbows on the table, she squeezed her head with her hands, trying unsuccessfully to relieve the sudden, sharp pain that was shooting through her temple.

Her distress went unnoticed by the Doctor, who did a double take as he looked at the Scrabble board. Some of the words Melissa had played pricked his senses as he read them in order: paradox, temporal, evil, help, hurts, run, enemy. Then, in another blink, their significance was gone. "Blimey." Intending to ask Melissa if she noticed anything strange about the board, he looked up at her in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Headache, it's nothing, just a sugar crash," she protested, although she did not raise her head.

Quickly scrawling a note for Susan and Matthew on the back of the score sheet, he countered, "You're a terrible liar." When she did not reply, he continued, "We're going to the TARDIS, now. I've left a note, so no arguing."

She nodded, but didn't move. "Shoes."

"What?"

"You are not going to carry me. I need shoes. Please get me a pair of shoes." Her head bothered her enough that she wondered whether she would be able to walk all the way to the TARDIS on her own, but she was determined to try.

"Of course! Shoes. Right!" He ran to her bedroom and grabbed the sandals that were near her bed. She had managed to sit upright in the few seconds he was gone, but admitted her head hurt too much to bend over. Hastily strapping her sandals to her feet, the Doctor help her walk to the TARDIS.

Melissa needn't have worried about the uncomfortable chair in the infirmary. By the time the Doctor unlocked the door to his ship, she could no longer stand on her own. She was barely aware as he carried her down the hall and placed her gently on the infirmary bed. Eyes closed, she distantly heard the sound of drawers being slammed open and closed before she fell into a deep sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Opening her eyes, Melissa studied her friend as he sat on the chair next to the bed. He was hunched over, his right hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked exhausted and upset, and she wondered what was bothering him. "Doctor?"

"Glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she told him as she started to sit up. He put his hands against her back, expecting that she would need help, but she merely looked at him quizzically until he let go of her. "I feel fine," she insisted. "But, I have no idea how I got in the TARDIS." Although reluctant to confess to yet another blackout, she knew her loss of memory would be obvious.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Eating the last piece of cake. How much did I lose?" She hated not knowing what she did or said. Memories of the last time she had woken up in an unexpected place crashed upon her, and she barely made it to the trash can before throwing up the cake she had recently eaten.

"Melissa, are you okay?" Scanning her again with his sonic screwdriver, he saw that the readings were normal. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She lied badly, and for the briefest of instants, she considered telling him the truth, but she didn't want him of all people to lose his respect for her.

"How long was my brain on overload this time?" she asked bitterly, trying to distract him.

"What?"

"Brain lit up like a Christmas tree, remember, isn't that what you said to me when we first met?" In her mind, she saw Owen explaining why she shouldn't be conscious, not after the thirty-two minutes of dangerously high electrical activity in her brain. He had called her a 'walking fucking miracle', and she had been touched by his concern.

Caught by her knowledge unawares, the Doctor had no choice but to answer. "Less than six minutes." He looked at her shrewdly. "You didn't have a stroke, at least, not in the traditional definition of the word. How long did the electrical spike last?"

"At least thirty-two minutes," she answered as she stood up and began to pace the room.

"You should be dead,"

"I was in a coma for two weeks. I think that's close enough." Idly, she began to peek through random drawers, wondering at their contents.

"You should still be dead."

"I know." There were times, now, when she wondered if it wouldn't be better to be dead, but she forcibly shoved those thoughts away each and every time. The content of the small drawer all the way on the right was interesting; she wondered if the fat purple globs were the future's equivalent of leeches.

"Do you know how you survived?" He watched her open more drawers, patiently waiting for her to answer. When she continued to ignore him, his patience ran out. "Melissa, it could be important!"

Slamming the drawer shut with enough force to make the entire room echo, she yelled. "I don't know how I survived! Jack does, but he's gone, and I want him back! I need him to keep me safe!" The last sentence slipped out without thought, and she reddened as she thought of what the Doctor would say if he knew how incapable she was of taking care of herself.

"I'm sorry he didn't stay with you," he soothed, trying to understand her fears. "He can't protect you from what happens in that head of yours, though. I really would like to see what triggers this. If I went into your mind, all you would have to do is imagine a closed door in front of any memory you don't want me to see. I still may be able to make out the pathways and connections that trigger your overload."

"No one is going into my mind!" Agitated, she added, "Why do you ask every time you see me? I don't go picking around in your brain!"

Face impassive, he wondered again why she was so vehement in her protest. The last time she had called it a violation, and in many ways he agreed. The things she unwittingly plucked from his head and relived often dredged up old nightmares. Still, he didn't want to upset her this much. "I'm only trying to help. I would never go in your memories without your permission."

Suddenly deflating, she apologized contritely. "I'm sorry. I guess I was picking a fight again. Like I said, I've got a lot on my mind lately, and I don't mean to take it out on one of my best friends. You aren't mad?"

"Mad?" he teased mischievously, glad she had calmed down. "Most people who meet me often think I'm quite mad, but I could never by angry with you. Irritated, peeved, upset, mildly put out, but never mad. Besides, if I got angry, you wouldn't make cream cheese icing for me."

"I should have known you only visit for my cooking."

"That, and you have the most comfortable bed outside the TARDIS." Knowing she would not submit to any more tests, he walked her out of the infirmary. "I think, Melissa Morgan, that we should rescue my new companion from your children. By now Susan and Matthew have probably convinced Martha that she would make quite a tasty snack for a hungry bear."

She laughed, knowing only too well that her children were capable of that and much more. "Hopefully, they will be kinder to Martha than they were to Mickey, although I understand they worked things out in the end."

Grinning, the Doctor remembered the look on Mickey's face as he ran terrified out of his tent after Matthew pretended to be a bear. "I think Miss Jones is made of sterner stuff, although Mickey the Idiot turned out to be quite the hero after all."

Relieved to see him happy, she forced herself to ignore her own misery. They spent the rest of the day hiking around the nature preserve across the interstate with Martha, Susan and Matthew. The group managed to spot elk, wild turkeys, a coyote chasing a prairie dog and even a reclusive red fox, but no bears or mountain lions. Martha didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved at the lack of promised wildlife, especially after Matthew had told her just how dangerous they were.

On their walk home, Matthew carried most of the conversation. "Doctor, would you mind staying for the science fair? It's Friday night; I'd like you to see the new solar cell I designed."

"Oh, a science fair! I love science fairs. They're so fun and sciency. Did I just say sciency? That's not even a word; now why would I say that? Anyway, I haven't been to a science fair in ages. What do you say, Martha? Can you stand a few more days in Colorado? Might still see a bear if we're lucky."

As he stopped speaking, Melissa and the twins tried very hard to hide their smiles of mirth at the Doctor's enthusiasm and lightning quick monologue.

Swallowing her lack of interest, Martha readily agreed. "Sounds great. Haven't been to one in ages."

"Brilliant! I'm looking forward to it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Matthew couldn't wait for the science fair to show the Doctor his new and improved solar cell. Instead, he dragged him to school the next day, confident that the psychic paper would be enough to allow the Time Lord visitor privileges. Susan rolled her eyes as all three entered the bus. She hadn't bothered with the science fair, and was feeling more than a little left out. Sensing her mood, the Doctor turned to her, eagerly asking if he could see the artwork she was compiling for her portfolio. Mollified, Susan happily described some of the wood block prints she had created the week before. Her brother wisely decided not to interrupt. The bus ride was a short one, and he knew he had been hogging the Doctor's attention.

Martha remained with Melissa, having no desire to visit an American high school. The two decided to take a ride on the cog railway to the top of Pike's Peak. Martha was impressed with the scenery visible outside the windows, but found ample time to talk to Melissa as the train jerked slowly up the mountain.

"So, have you known the Doctor long, then?" she finally asked after gazing at yet another waterfall.

"A few years," Melissa answered breezily. "He saved my life, and comes around every once in a while to check up on me. It's very flattering that he takes an interest, although between you and me, I think he just likes to see how normal people live. I get the impression his life involves a fair amount of running and dramatic world saving. Not what I would define as normal."

Martha laughed; Melissa had the Doctor pegged. "You've no idea! I have never done so much running as I have with the Doctor.

"And world saving, too, I imagine." Hoping Martha would be willing to share details of their adventures that her friend had not, she paused expectantly.

"That's the craziest part of travelling with him! It's like, no matter where we land there's something that needs fixing. And he always manages to fix it, although sometimes not before people get hurt." Martha trailed off, thinking of Joan Redfern.

"That must be scary."

"It's terrifying," she admitted, then added confidently. "Although he's never failed, not once, not even when we met Daleks in Manhattan."

Trying to remain calm, Melissa prompted, "When were Daleks in New York?"

"Oh, it was way back during the Depression, and there were only four of them. Although, it was very creepy when Dalek Sec turned into a human/Dalek hybrid. He looked like an octopus on legs, an octopus in a suit on legs. 'Course, the other Daleks eventually killed him, and all the Dalek/human/Time Lord hybrids." Lost in memories, Martha continued, unaware that Melissa was digging her fingernails into her palms to avoid crying.

"But that wasn't the worst part, really. The worst part was when the Doctor was screaming at the Daleks to kill him. I mean, I know he was trying to save the people of Hooverville, but if he had died, I would have been stuck in America during the 1930s. Not the best time or place to be dark skinned." She paused to drink from her water bottle, then continued conversationally, "Then, I thought he had died when he fell from the top of the Empire State building, but he landed on the scaffolding about 15 feet down."

Seeing the shocked look on the older woman's face, Martha hastened to add, "It wasn't all terrible. There was this showgirl, and her boyfriend had been turned into this pig-slave, but the Doctor was able to save his life. The pig-slave and the showgirl, even the Doctor had a laugh over that one."

Melissa asked with an unnatural squeak to her voice, "So, the Doctor have any other near death experiences while travelling with you?"

"When hasn't he?" Martha retorted, caught up in her story. "I had to perform CPR on him the first day I met him. This alien vampire woman had drained his blood, stopping both his hearts. Then, one of those Carrionites he told you about stopped one of his hearts with some sort of spell, although the Doctor swears it was science. I thought he was dead again! This living sun took over his body on this ship and he had me freeze him to try to save him. Not that it worked, but the sun left when I vented the fuel for the engines. That's when he tried to tell me about regeneration, but I didn't understand. It's a relief to know that no matter what happens, though, he won't die."

It was an effort not cry in front of the Doctor's new companion. No matter what he'd said the night before, the Doctor was most certainly not doing well. Preoccupied, Melissa followed Martha silently out of the train, stopping at the viewing platform. Deliberately not looking for the nonexistent Air Force Academy, she took a picture of Martha with the cog railway in the background. She would print it out and give it to her later as a memento.

After perusing the gift shop at the summit, they returned to the warmth and relative comfort of the train. During the long trip back down, Melissa fretted about the Doctor. From Martha's description, he was skirting the edge of self-destruction, and she hoped that the young woman's presence would stop him from doing something completely foolish. Remaining silent for most of the trip down the mountain, her thoughts focused on her friend's continued suffering, and she firmly decided not to burden him with her own.

Martha was also quiet during the ride down Pike's Peak. She could feel every time the cog slipped, moving them farther down the mountain, and the motion of the train gave her a slight headache. Closing her eyes, she napped most of the way back. Waking her at the end of their journey, Melissa asked if they could stop at REI on the way home.

"Sure, no problem." The young woman wondered if the Doctor would be back by the time they arrived at Melissa's house. Maybe they could do something together, just the two of them. She still hadn't seen a bear.

Walking into REI, Martha was impressed. She was a city girl, and camping had never been her thing, but the store made all the gadgets and clothing look very desirable. Unfortunately, Melissa didn't give her much time to browse. She merely walked to the counter and paid for an oversized box, quickly finding Martha in the shoe section.

"Can you open the trunk for me? I've got my hands full." She was carrying a box that looked more awkward than heavy.

"Sure." Martha reluctantly put down a pair of waterproof hiking boots she was thinking of trying on. Maybe the TARDIS could come up with something similar.

Back at the house, Melissa carried the box to the door to the basement, and stopped. She took a deep breath, opening the door with a bang. Turning on the light, she remained at the top of the stairs for several long seconds before taking a huge gulp of air and walking downstairs. Curious, Martha followed her into the basement.

"What's in the box, then?"

For a moment, she didn't reply. She was too busy staring at the far corner of the room and trying not to hyperventilate. Then, blinking, she turned to Martha. "Sorry, did you ask me something?"

"What's in the box?"

Unlocking an unobtrusive door in the corner of the basement, she answered proudly. "A case of military grade water purification tablets. Guaranteed to kill parasites, viruses and bacteria while neutralizing most dangerous chemicals. Cost a fortune, but worth every penny."

She seemed pleased with her purchase, but their use escaped Martha until she saw what was behind the locked door. The woman had enough canned food, bottled water and survival gear to survive Armageddon.

"Why do you need all this?"

Without the hint of a smile, she replied, "I want to be prepared."

Instantly, she decided the Doctor's friend was nice, but must have been adversely affected by her recent stroke. Walking up the stairs, she hoped the Doctor would return very soon.

Merely ten minutes later, he walked in with Susan and Matthew. Excitedly he announced, "They've asked me to help judge the science fair!"

Matthew groaned, "That means I'll never win. Everyone else will accuse me of special treatment if I do."

"Now, Matthew, your project is brilliant. If you win, it will definitely be on your own merits." Picking up a banana, he peeled it as the teens put away their backpacks.

"Who did you tell the school you were, Doctor?"

"I told them I was Doctor John Smith, Scientific Advisor to UNIT. They seemed to be most impressed." Looking at her carefully, he added, "Why? What's wrong?"

She had the urgent desire to bang her head against the refrigerator, but she resisted, and put a cheery smile on her face. "Absolutely nothing. I'm making seafood gumbo. Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours. Why don't you take Martha out for another attempt at bear watching? She can tell you all about Pike's Peak."

"Come along, Martha! We've been sent outside to play." He gave his friend a cheery wave as he marched out the door, companion in tow.


	20. A Small Paradox

Author's Notes: This chapter deals with the aftermath of a sexual assault. I have edited it from the one I posted on Teaspoon, but the theme of the chapter is still there. Feel free to skip it if it bothers you.

* * *

><p>Chopping the onion, celery and bell pepper, Melissa looked at Susan and rolled her eyes as the Doctor and his newest companion left to take a walk. "Okay Sue, set the table for six before you do your homework, just in case."<p>

Nodding, Susan began to get the yellow napkins out of the buffet. "Do you think he'll just show up without calling, Mom?"

"If anyone from UNIT hears that Doctor John Smith was at the school today, he'll be here as soon as he can."

Her daughter quickly complied with her mother's wishes and then left to play her flute. Matthew lingered, snacking on celery. "Are you serving gingerbread men for dessert?" he smirked.

By now, she was making the roux and didn't need the distraction. "Matthew Michael Morgan, I am going to pretend that you are not threatening to tell the Doctor all of my secrets. Colonel Frakes is so much better than anyone else I've met from UNIT, and it really doesn't matter who he was at home, does it?"

She shuddered involuntarily as the image of Major Marshall flashed through her head. Shrugging it off, she continued, "Tommy's taken quite a shine to you and Susan. I think he sees himself as a father figure to you both."

"Jack's the only father I need," the boy mumbled under his breath, too quiet for his mother to hear. Louder, he added, "Just don't be surprised if he mentions it himself. You're the one who told him, after all."

"Maybe he won't show up." She could hope, at least. "Or maybe you could let him in and then go do your homework," she told him resignedly as the doorbell rang.

"Tommy! Come on in the kitchen. Can I get you something to drink after I finish this roux?"

xxxxxxxxxxx

Martha decided while racing through the woods that seeing bears in their natural habitat was highly overrated. After running at a breakneck speed for almost a mile, the Doctor finally stopped to grin madly at her. "That was incredible! What do you think, Martha Jones? Wild enough for you?"

She was so going to kill him. "Please just tell me you know how to get back to the house. I'm starving."

"'Course I do," he told her confidently. "We may have to take a slight detour, unless you'd like to see more bears?" Brimming with enthusiasm, he started to follow a path she had had not noticed. "Allons-y, Martha!"

Martha just shook her head and followed slowly behind. She wondered sourly if she was going to think of that brat Matthew every time the Doctor used that particular phrase. A few hours later, Martha and the Doctor made it back to the house. Melissa tried not to stare at the pine needles sticking out of Martha's hair or the mud on her shoes and jeans. The young woman was glancing in annoyance at the Doctor, whose clothes and shoes had somehow remained immaculately clean.

"As soon as you two are ready, we can eat." Melissa thought that the young woman might choose to shower first, but she underestimated her hunger.

"Won't be a minute," Martha promised as she kicked off her muddy boots and hurried to the bathroom to wash up.

Casually walking to the kitchen to wash his hands, the Doctor stopped when he saw a man reading a newspaper in the den.

"Hullo!" I'm the Doctor, and you must be a friend of Melissa's." He meant to shake the man's hand, but was flabbergasted when the guest jumped up and gave him a crisp salute. The Time Lord's smile faded slightly as he stared at the man's khaki pants and burgundy golf shirt. "Sorry, I'm afraid I don't recognize the uniform. You are?"

"Colonel Tommy Frakes, sir, United States Air Force, and I must say it's a thrill to meet you."

Stifling a sigh, the Doctor decided he should have known he was dealing with a soldier. It was obvious considering the closely cropped blonde hair, the muscled physique, the fact that the man actually polished his loafers. "Nice to meet you, Tommy. May I call you Tommy? You'll have to excuse me, I'm not much of a soldier; I'm used to shaking hands, not saluting." He again offered the man his hand.

This time, the man named Tommy eagerly gripped the Doctor's hand and shook it. "Like I said, it's an honor to meet you. Since I've been assigned here, I've read all your files. Never thought I'd get a chance to meet you in person.

Oh joy, a fan. Well it couldn't be any worse than LINDA, could it? Still he really wished Melissa would appear soon and explain exactly what was going on. As a rule, he didn't do fan clubs.

Melissa and Matthew walked into the den, Melissa carrying a glass of water, which she handed to the Doctor. "Thought you might like some; Martha mentioned all the running. She's changing into some of Susan's clothes before dinner."

Gratefully sipping the water, he waited for an introduction, or at least an explanation.

"I see you've met Tommy. He's currently serving as the Air Force liaison to UNIT Divisional Headquarters at NORAD. He tells me that they're called the Unified Intelligence Task Force these days, something to do with plausible deniability. Oh, and just so you know, he's an old friend of the family."

Before the Doctor could comment about gingerbread houses, Matthew interjected. "Yeah, Colonel Frakes was Dad's best friend at home. You should have seen the look on Mom's face when she realized he had been Dad's special friend here. Fun house mirrors doesn't begin to describe it."

Choking on a sip of water, the Doctor thought Matthew was just too much at times. "Thank you ever so much for that information, Matthew. Do you ever keep your mouth shut?"

Chagrinned, the teen made his excuses. "I just wanted to let you know they're just friends."

"I don't think that's anyone's business except you mother's."

Dejected by the criticism, he became contrite. "I'm sorry, Colonel Frakes; I didn't mean to be rude. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea." He pointed to the Doctor.

Tommy Frakes shook his head and tried not to laugh. The boy was his father's son in any universe. "No problem, but I think you need some lessons in tact, young man."

Grinning, Matthew agreed. "You know my father used to tell me that all the time!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tipping back in the dining room chair, the Doctor thanked Melissa for another delicious meal.

"Well, I hope you have room for dessert. I thought we could make banana splits since I didn't have time to bake anything." Glancing at the twins, she added, "And I bought pineapple sauce to go with the chocolate and caramel, don't worry."

"Do you have any Chunky Monkey?" the Doctor eagerly requested. "I could use banana ice cream in the banana split. Bet that tastes brilliant!"

"Yes, I have Chunky Monkey, along with plain old chocolate and vanilla. I also have maraschino cherries, chocolate sprinkles, and even edible ball bearings to go with the whipped cream."

"Edible ball bearings?" Martha felt compelled to ask as Matthew and Susan laughed.

"Silver non pariels," Melissa clarified. "One of the Doctor's stranger food fixations," she finished, teasing.

Giving her a goofy grin, he agreed. "Strange, but immensely satisfying. Can we have dessert now? I'm starved."

Tommy Frakes stared at the Doctor in amazement. The man was seriously thin, but had just polished off two bowls of rice and gumbo, a huge salad, and several pieces of garlic bread. Not that he had been counting. Still, dessert sounded great. He had lived alone since Mark had died, and didn't usually buy ice cream.

"I've probably had more dinner than I should, but dessert sounds wonderful. I second the motion."

Matthew interjected, "Count me in. Mom doesn't buy pineapple topping very often."

Melissa took out bowls as everyone else cleared the meal from the table. Minutes later, they were all happily eating banana splits when Colonel Frakes decided to speak up. "Doctor, I really want to say again what an honor it's been to meet you. Considering what my predecessor put Ms. Morgan through, I was afraid you wouldn't be so congenial, especially considering your reception the last time you were at NORAD."

Melissa cringed, her hands finding her napkin to twist in her lap as the Doctor's face changed instantly from polite disinterest to extreme calculation. Smiling disarmingly, he turned his complete attention to Colonel Frakes.

"Which trip to NORAD are you talking about, then?" He blithely waved his hand. "Time travel, it gets confusing even for me sometimes."

"The one four weeks ago were you stormed in demanding that Major Marshall be arrested. When Ms. Morgan finally admitted to me what he had threatened her with, believe me I was appalled." Emphatically, he continued, "That type of behavior isn't tolerated in the military."

The Doctor carefully put his spoon down in his bowl of half-eaten ice cream. "Would you excuse me for a moment, everyone." His voice was outwardly pleasant, but whipped with an undercurrent of cold fury. Not waiting for a reply, he strode purposefully out the house, grabbing his coat along the way. The door shut with a heavy thud that was not quite a slam.

Tommy Frakes, oblivious to the commotion he had caused, calmly finished his banana split as the rest of the table waited in nervous anticipation.

After everyone had finished their dessert and the Doctor's ice cream had long since melted, Melissa addressed her children. "I know you two still have homework, especially you, Matthew. Now would be a good time to finish."

Incredulous, Matthew stared at his mother. "If you think I'm going to miss this show, then—"

Curtly, she finished his sentence. "Then I am absolutely correct. Because, Matthew, may I remind you, my life is not a show, and if you don't do as I say, you can kiss your date this Saturday with Brianna Stevenson goodbye."

Her son didn't need to be told twice. Although curious about what this major had threatened his mother with, he decided satisfying his curiosity was less important than going on his date. Sighing dramatically, he stomped to his room. Susan retreated meekly to her own room. She had finished her homework, but was grateful she didn't have to witness the Doctor's anger when he returned. Every once in a great while, the Time Lord terrified her.

After her children were out of earshot, Melissa looked apologetically at her friend. "Tommy, it was so nice to have you over. We'll have to do it again soon. I'm sorry the Doctor isn't here to say goodbye. I'm sure he got distracted by the TARDIS. His ship needs constant maintenance, you know."

Shrewdly, he replied, "Don't kid a kidder, Melissa. Did I just cause some sort of massive paradox?"

"More like you prevented one," she admitted nervously, telling herself that she was not going to be sick all over the floor.

"Well, I won't be sorry, then. That asshole deserves what's coming to him." Kissing her on the cheek, he added as he walked out the door, "Hope the Doctor gets back soon."

Once he was gone, Martha and Melissa shared a long look. Finally, Martha offered, "Why don't I help you clean the kitchen? Then, I'm going to take a long shower. I think I've still got pine needles in my hair from my encounter with Mother Nature this afternoon. Remind me to go to the zoo the next time I want to see wild animals."

"Thanks," she answered distractedly. Once the kitchen was clean, Martha took a long shower and went to bed. Melissa spent a few minutes getting ready for bed, more to kill some time than because she was sleepy.

No, she definitely wasn't sleepy- nervous, nauseated, frantic, worried, angry, embarrassed, scared, ashamed, but not sleepy. Pulling a random book off the shelf, she went into the den to wait for the Doctor's return. C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle didn't hold her interest, but then, she hadn't expected it to. She sat restlessly on the sofa, curling the tie of her robe into tight knots while trying not to remember what had happened to her four weeks ago.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa jumped up from the sofa as the Doctor entered the house. She may be short, but she was determined to meet him standing. He wasn't going to tower over her like a child. "Your cheek's bleeding."

Automatically wiping blood from his right cheek, he dismissed her concerns. "It'll be gone by morning."

"Who threw the lucky punch?" Her arms were folded tightly and he could smell the anxiety pouring from her body.

"Marshall. Then I showed him how unwise it is to cross me." His voice was clipped, his anger barely contained and his eyes flashed steel.

"I didn't ask for your help!"

He was surprised at the amount of anger radiating from her, although the fear was palpable. For a moment, his own anger accidently slipped into his speech. "He was raping you, for Pete's sake! Stop acting like you had everything under control!"

"How did you?" she mouthed as a fish gasps for water in the open air. The memory of Marshall pinning her against the wall, one hand slowly choking her, the other painfully groping her overwhelmed her once again, and she stood staring mutely at the Doctor, her right hand unconsciously rubbing her neck.

"Who do you think stopped him?" he asked quietly, regretting his outburst. He was not angry at her, after all. Shuddering, he remembered how close he had been to losing her. By the time he had found her, Marshall had already choked her to the point of unconsciousness, the monster still squeezing her neck as he pressed against her.

Stunned, all color drained from her face as she swayed slightly. Afraid she was going to faint, he grabbed her before she collapsed. She trembled against him, silent sobs wracking her petite frame. Tenderly, he led her to her room.

Sitting in the overstuffed chair, he cradled her in his lap, holding her until her sobs subsided. "I'm so, so sorry. I couldn't stay with you; it would have changed the timeline too much. I had to leave before you regained consciousness. I made sure the paramedics found you."

"I feel so stupid. I'm a black belt; he shouldn't have been able to do that to me. I thought he was just a crazy bully, and UNIT promised they had taken care of him, but then, but then. . . ."

Wishing she had simply told him about how dangerous Marshall was long before, he whispered in her hair as tears slipped down his own face. "You're not stupid. You're an incredibly strong person. It wasn't your fault. It was his fault, not yours."

As he reassured her, he seriously considered crossing his own timeline to convince himself to kill Marshall instead of hauling him to UNIT. It would be ridiculously easy; he had been very close to killing the man in the first place. Only the knowledge that it would cause a reaper-sized paradox kept him from marching back to the TARDIS and fulfilling his fantasy.

At some point, they both stopped crying. Eventually, he realized that she had fallen asleep curled up against him. Carefully, he put her into bed, pulling the blankets on top of her. He sat straight in the chair trying to meditate deeply enough to calm his troubled mind.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He really should have anticipated the sleepwalking; Susan had warned him, after all. He had been tired and emotional, though, and he had drifted off to sleep during his meditation. It meant that he was too slow upon waking to prevent her from leaving the house.

Cursing slowly in Gallifreyan as he trailed behind, he realized with a thankful start that he hadn't even bothered to take off his shoes earlier. Melissa was barefoot, dressed only in a cotton pair of pajamas and a lightweight robe, however. Hoping she would not injure herself running in the dark, he picked up the pace.

He found her huddled under a fir tree, crying softly. As he wondered if he could lead her back to the house without waking her, she began to scream. Her voice was higher pitched than normal, making her sound much younger. "Stop," she whimpered, "Please stop. You'll be kicked out of the Academy for this!"

Still asleep, she continued, her voice now desperate. "Don't touch me, you coward! I don't know what you've drugged me with, but you better not touch me!" Starting to crawl, she cried, "You're hurting me! Stop, please stop!"

The Doctor decided that sleepwalking or not, her torment had gone on far too long. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he was surprised by her strength as she wrenched away from him. Backing away, she growled, "Get out of my mind! Get out!" Then, she screamed again. "Stop making me! You're sick, and nothing but a coward! Get Out Of My Mind!" Suddenly, she curled into a fetal position and began to keen.

Picking her up, he felt her shivering with cold through the now damp robe. Not knowing if she was asleep or unconscious at this point, he carried her swiftly to the house. Susan was waiting on the porch, holding the door open as they approached.

"I went to check on Mom, and she was gone. I wasn't sure if you were back yet. Was she sleepwalking?"

He nodded, knowing he could not tell Susan anything he had learned that night.

Insightful as ever, the girl noticed the state of the Doctor's and her mother's clothes and made a decision. "I'm going to grab some clothes for you and put them on Mom's bed. Then, I 'm going to heat up some water and leave a pot of tea on the stove. Do you need anything else? Do you want me to help with Mom?"

"Clothes and tea will be fine, Susan," the Doctor said wearily. "I think I can handle everything else. Why don't you go back to bed after you finish in the kitchen? There's only a few hours left before you have to get ready for school."

"Sure. I'll make sure Matthew doesn't bother you in the morning, okay?"

He brushed past Susan with a grateful nod. Grabbing a pair of Melissa's flannel pajamas from her armoire, he carried her into the bathroom, where he sank down to the floor, his emotions in turmoil. Hugging her tightly to him, he tried to calm himself as he pondered this latest incident. Nightmare or flashback? Imagined or all too real?

Shaking her gently to wake her, the Doctor carefully wiped blood off her lip. She woke suddenly, aware of being cold, wet and muddy. Instinctively, she looked up and saw her friend's eyes, filled with so much compassion that it scared her just a bit.

"Migraine?"

"Sleepwalking," he corrected, knowing that the rape was one memory not plucked from his own nightmarish reality.

"Oh. I usually wake up outside," she responded resignedly.

He didn't comment. Instead he asked, "Do you remember what you were dreaming?"

"No. I never do. I just assumed it was because of . . . the other thing. I, I haven't been sleepwalking for that long."

"I'm sorry," he told her sincerely, deciding not to confront her about what she had said outside. The human mind could only take so much trauma. Standing, he briskly changed the subject. "I've got some clean, warm clothes for you that smell much better than mud. Why don't you take a shower and I'll disinfect your cuts after you're dressed?"

"Sure." When he opened the door to leave, however, she all but yelped. "Don't go. Please."

"I'll be right on the other side of the door. I promise." He couldn't stand to see the fear in her eyes, so he quickly amended, "I'll be right on this side of the door, facing away from you. Just let me know when you're ready to get those cuts cleaned."

She showered quickly and changed into the clothes he had provided. Wrapping her wet hair in a towel, she sat on the edge of the tub so he could reach her feet. "Ready."

Turning around, he rapidly and efficiently disinfected the wounds on her feet. Carefully, he cleaned a nasty scratch on her chin and then smeared ointment on her split lip. "Better?"

"Much." Taking off the towel, she grabbed her hair dryer. "Your turn. I can manage while you clean up. I'm going to dry my hair in the bedroom. Before he could comment, she picked up the pajamas Susan had left on the bed and handed them to him.

Clean, and refreshed in body if not spirit, the Doctor opened the bathroom door, expecting to hear the whine of the hair dryer. However, Melissa was sitting on the floor outside the bathroom, her hands clasped tightly around her bent knees.

"Your hair's still wet."

"I know." She didn't move, though.

Picking up her brush, he sat next to her and began to carefully unsnarl the tangles in her hair. "That's better. Sit in a chair, and I'll dry it for you."

As he worked, he spoke soothingly over the hum of the dryer. "I used to brush my daughter's hair when she was little. She had the most beautiful ginger hair, and her mother let it grow long, long and straight. Much later, she would ask me to brush my granddaughter's hair when they came to visit. I could always unsnarl a tangle without pulling."

Melissa gave no indication that she was listening until he turned off the dryer. Then, she reached up to take his hand. "Thank you, for everything. I . . . just thank you."

He nodded, brushing her hair one last time. "It's almost morning; why don't you try to sleep."

Mutely, she got into bed, but when he sat in the chair she protested. "I know it's stupid, but I'd feel safer with you next to me."

Wordlessly, he lay down beside her, and she snuggled against him as a child might burrow against a large stuffed animal. Sensing her exhaustion, he began to rub her scarred back, hoping to ease her into sleep.

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?" He continued rubbing her back, feeling the knots of tension slowly dissolve.

"I didn't tell Tommy, not about that. I said he threatened me. How did you know?"

"Oh, simple, really. I broke into UNIT first and read the sealed incident report and the confession; then I went back." He worked his way to her neck, hoping she would not associate his massage with her near strangulation.

"Wouldn't that have caused a paradox?" Time travel was confusing, and she didn't want to worry about the reapers Rose had told her about.

"Possibly," he allowed. "Well, probably. A tiny one, mind you, not enough to count, actually. More of a spoiler. It's like reading the end of a novel before you finish the middle. The end stays the same; you just get to it quicker." Not wanting to confuse her with a long, complicated explanation, he added smugly, "You do remember I'm a Time Lord, don't you?"

Finally beginning to relax, she answered calmly, "You may have mentioned it once or twice." He concentrated on rubbing her right shoulder, feeling those muscles slowly loosen.

"Doctor?"

"That's me."

"I'm not going to see a shrink." His hand stilled on her shoulder. "But I will give Sarah Jane a call. I'll tell her about, I'll tell her about the attack, and I can tell her the rest without getting committed to the funny farm."

"My Sarah Jane?"

"Is that okay? Rose gave me her number and we talk or email several times a week."

"I think it's a good idea." Relieved, he began to idly rub her shoulder again.

"Do you think she'll mind?"

A hint of fear was once again present in her voice, and he was quick to reassure her. "No, of course not, Sarah's very understanding. She'll be glad you confided in her. You need someone to talk to; you shouldn't try to cope with this on your own." Plus, he could pop in and see Sarah in a few months, and ask her how Melissa was doing.

"So, you think it's bad to bottle things up?" she asked hesitantly.

Her sleepwalking and flashback in the forefront of his mind, he quickly answered, "I think it can be dangerous in the long run. It can come out in other ways."

"Like suicide?"

Stilling, his mind raced as he quietly asked, "Have you been thinking about committing suicide, Melissa?"

There was only a strained silence for several moments. "No, I've been terrified of anyone finding out. I don't want to be treated like the social pariah I was in high school, even if it is for a different reason. And, I've been so angry that I've snapped at everyone, I know, but, no, I've never thought about suicide." She began to twist her pillow case in a tight circle.

"Who is it then?" Tragic potential futures for both Matthew and Susan suddenly filled his mind. Her anxiety was back with a vengeance, and he sought again to reassure her. "You should talk to whomever you're worried about, you know. Even if they get angry, they'll still know you care."

She slowly turned to face him and traced the healing scab on his right cheek. "I am."

He sucked in a large breath through his teeth and sat up. "You've been talking to Martha." Rubbing his eyes, he avowed, "I'm fine, Melissa, really, I am."

Treading very carefully, she responded, "I'm not some bright-eyed twenty-something who thinks you'll always be okay. You came here exhausted. You haven't told Martha what really happened to Rose. You spun her a very pretty story of how beautiful Gallifrey was, but you never told her what you did in the Time War. You're keeping so much to yourself that I'm surprised you haven't exploded, and I care about you too much not to say something."

"I promise you I'm not suicidal. I don't know what else I can do to convince you I'm fine." He crossed his arms over his chest and looked towards the door. She could see the tension in his neck, his clenched jaw, and knew that she had crossed an invisible line.

His body language screamed back off, but she pointedly ignored it. Resting her head against his shoulder, she waited silently until he calmed. Unconsciously, he began to run his fingers through her hair, and she knew that she had one last chance. "I'm sorry; I know I worry too much. Just answer this one question, and I'll never pry again."

He nodded in reply, but his eyes were still fixed on the door. Gathering her courage, she asked, "When you were screaming at the Cult of Skaro to kill you in New York, did you say that because it was the only way to save the people of Hooverville or did you say it because you just wanted it all to be over?"

She half expected him to bolt from the room, wake up Martha and leave in the TARDIS, no matter what had happened earlier that night. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned against the headboard. "Last time I was here, you gave me some brilliant advice, although you don't remember. You told me to have a fantastic life, without Rose, because if I just gave up, then the Daleks would win."

Looking up at the ceiling, he continued. "But it's much more difficult than it sounds, Melissa. Because everywhere I go, everything I do only reminds me of how much I miss her. Frankly, I haven't a clue why Martha's still traveling with me. I must be a right old misery sometimes."

She smiled softly at that, knowing exactly why Martha continued to travel with him, but didn't interrupt.

"I took Martha to New York in order to make up for what happened to her in New New York. I thought I'd let her tour the Statue of Liberty, maybe take her to a Broadway premiere. I wasn't prepared to meet any Daleks, especially not the ones responsible for Canary Wharf. When they attacked Hooverville, I watched a very brave man try to reason with them. He offered them a refuge, a different choice, and they killed him where he stood."

Tightening his hold on her was the only indication he gave of how difficult it was for him to keep talking. "Something inside me snapped, and I lost my patience. I wanted the game they were playing to end. I have fought Daleks almost my entire life. I destroyed my home, my people to wipe them out of existence. They have taken everything from me that I have ever loved, and in that brief instant I would have been relieved if they had killed me." After a pause, he looked down at her. "Does that make me suicidal?"

"If I didn't think it would insult you too much, I would say it makes you human." He snorted, and she turned to face him. "Pax?"

His smile was wan, but genuine when he answered, "I think I told you earlier that you don't have to worry about making me angry at you."

"Not even a little put out?"

His smile grew, "Well, maybe a little, and when I say little, I mean the tiniest of bits. Talking about myself isn't something I find easy to do, especially since the War."

"Then I feel privileged that I can at least drag things out of you." As she finished, she tried unsuccessfully to stifle a huge yawn.

"Me too," he murmured as they settled into bed. Bone weary, they both slept soundly, too tired to dream. Even Susan and Matthew's nosy preparations for school could not disturb their slumber.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Martha woke well after the start of school, she dressed quickly, hoping to have the Doctor to herself for a change. The house was silent; however, the Doctor was absent from the guestroom. Nervous, she made a mad dash to the TARDIS to make sure the ship and her occupant had indeed returned. The ship, although in its previous parking spot, was empty. Returning to the still silent house, she clanged pots and pans in frustration as she found a pot to boil water for an egg and poured out some old water in the kettle to make a new pot of tea. She could not believe that the Doctor had once again left her; not doubt he had gone somewhere with those kids and their mother.

"Oi! You could wake the dead with that racket, Martha Jones. Melissa's still asleep."

She stared at him dumbfounded. He was wearing blue plaid drawstring pajama bottoms and a red t-shirt. His hair wasn't artfully mussed; it was sleep tousled, some bits flat while others stuck up at odd angles. Furthermore, he had come from the hallway that only led to the basement and Melissa's bedroom.

"Cat got your tongue, Martha?" he asked quizzically when she continued to stare at him as the kettle whistled.

Snapping out of her paralysis, she took the kettle off the stove and poured the water over the tea bags in the pot. "I guess I never realized you really slept, as a Time Lord, I mean." "Or where you slept," she added under her breath.

Rolling his eyes, he decided to ignore her second comment, which he had heard quite clearly. Perhaps a little teasing would put her in a more generous mood. "Martha Jones! You've been travelling with me all this time and didn't think I slept? Do I look like a zombie to you?" He put his hands out, zombie fashion, and began to shuffle theatrically forward, a lop-sided grin on his face.

"I've just never seen you sleep," she argued, momentarily distracted by his antics.

"I've never seen you sleep either, but that doesn't mean I believe you don't sleep."

Even during their time with Shakespeare, he never had, not once, watched Martha sleep, but then Martha, unlike Rose, would go to bed when she was tired. He remembered fondly all the times he had been talking to Rose while working on the TARDIS only to realize that his companion was slumbering peacefully on the seat, exhaustion finally overtaking her as he talked happily to himself.

"But you're in pajamas!"

Oh, this was bad. Did she think he lived in his suits, too? "What? You don't like my jimjams? I admit I borrowed some of Matthew's, but they're not bad as pajamas go. Saved the world in my pajamas once; well, technically they were Howard's, but Jackie let me keep them so I guess they're mine now. I was wearing them when we first met, remember?" He could ramble all day as long as she didn't say anything particularly stupid.

Narrowing her eyes, she watched him avoid the subject of whose bed he had been sleeping in. All that friendly chatting about the Doctor, and Melissa had really just been trying to get rid of the competition. It was Joan Redfern all over again. She began to crack her hard-boiled egg and deftly changed the subject. "Why don't Americans use egg cups?"

Grateful not to be the subject of conversation, he replied, "I'm sure some do, although I've noticed more Americans eat fried or scrambled eggs for breakfast than they do boiled." His enthusiasm for the topic of egg cups spent, he picked up the newspaper that Matthew had left on the table and started to read.

He was slogging through the sports section and ignoring Martha's silent sulking when Melissa entered the kitchen. She must have woken soon after he left; she was already dressed in jeans and a purple peasant blouse. Her wavy hair was bound in a long French braid that hung down the center of her back. She looked deceptively normal, and he wished he had been more perceptive when he first arrived. Perhaps he could have helped her sooner.

Seeing Melissa walk into the kitchen and noting that the Doctor did nothing but stare intensely at her, Martha decided it was time to leave. Stiffly, she announced that she would be in Susan's room if anyone needed her, but neither bothered to acknowledge her comment. Typical, she thought as she huffily stalked out; she was always second best with him. Malice and jealously overcame her as she stood silently in the den, deciding that if they didn't care where she was, then they wouldn't care if she eavesdropped.

"Good morning!" He greeted her with a cheerful smile. "What would you like for breakfast? I'm cooking." Indicating the paper, he added, "Have a seat and read the paper; Matthew was kind enough to leave it on the table."

"I'm not hungry."

All pretense of cheerfulness drained from his face. "You have to eat, Melissa."

Sitting at the table, she started to flip through the front section of the newspaper. "I will," she promised, "just not right now. I've got a pounding headache, and before you start pointing your screwdriver at me, it's not one of those headaches. I cried so much last night I messed up my sinuses. I need coffee."

"Coffee I can do. Would you like the dregs of the pot your kids made this morning, or would you like something fresher? I imagine I can figure out your coffee maker fairly easily, although I doubt you could tell the difference between burnt coffee and a freshly brewed pot considering all that chicory in the coffee you drink. Fascinating thing, chicory. It was used in the South during the Civil War, however-"

"Doctor," she interrupted, "I actually know the history of chicory. Do you mind just nuking whatever's left in the pot?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I just, yeah." He turned to heat a large mug of coffee in the microwave, and then poured himself a cup of tea.

"So, what are we going to do today?" she asked as the Time Lord handed her a cup of coffee and sat down to drink his tea.

He didn't say anything for a while as he stared into his cup. "I think you ought to talk to Susan and Matthew today."

She looked at him as if he had slapped her. "No! That's not fair to them. They can't do anything. It will only make them upset. They already had to deal with the coma."

"No one's going to think less of you," he told her patiently. "I don't, and Susan and Matthew certainly won't. It wasn't your fault."

There was a sharp, sudden pain in her temple and when she spoke her voice was filled with fear and bitterness. "You say that, but I know you don't mean it. Control of the mind is the first step to controlling your future, remember? A strong will cannot be defeated, whereas a weak one will forever—"

"Stop!"

She focused on his commanding tone and looked at him in confusion. "I lost my train of thought."

"That's a good thing. You were still trying to blame yourself for something that can never be your fault." Shaken, he struggled to keep his voice even. She had been in his mind again, this time pulling maxims from his own school days to condemn herself.

After a moment, she continued to protest. "I can't today. Tonight's the science fair. It's too important."

"No, it's not. It's just a science fair, and even Matthew would agree that you're much more important than his solar cell."

"I can't. I just can't."

He gave her his most encouraging smile. "'Course you can. You are Melissa Morgan, the bravest woman on the planet. You can tell your children because they need to understand what's happened to you. The sleepwalking, snapping at people, losing your temper, it's all related to Marshall's attack."

She blanched, but didn't protest. Watching her mute acceptance, he drove the point home. "If you don't tell them, they're going to keep believing that they've done something wrong, something to make you angry. You don't want them to think that, eh?"

His gentle voice and logical arguments finally began to have an effect. "I hadn't thought of it like that," she admitted reluctantly. "I was too worried about anyone finding out. I didn't think." Burying her face in her hands, she cried, "Oh God, what am I going to tell them?"

He was beside her in an instant. "Tell them whatever you're comfortable telling them. They don't need to hear every detail, but they need to know something happened and that it's going to take you a while to deal with it."

"I'm scared," she confessed, finally having made the decision to speak to her kids.

"That's why I'm getting dressed and going to pick them up from school right now. You'll feel better once you've done it."

"Okay." She sounded resigned, but there was strength in her voice as well.

"That's the spirit!" he told her as he enveloped her in a tight hug.

Martha stood frozen in the den, her face hot with shame and embarrassment. She had completely misjudged the situation earlier. Hoping the Doctor had not noticed her petty bout of jealousy, she crept down the hall to Susan's bedroom and began to read a book.

Twenty minutes later, the Doctor knocked on Susan's door and walked in. He was dressed in his brown suit, his hair perfectly groomed, his coat already on. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut our visit short, Martha. I noticed last night that the TARDIS is low on power. I'll have to take her to a place where she can recharge. I hope you're not too disappointed."

"No problem. I'll get my things." She put Susan's book down, ready to do anything the Doctor asked so long as he didn't mention her earlier behavior in the kitchen.

"Thanks," he told her sincerely. Looking slightly uncomfortable, he made a request. "I, uh, have some errands to run before we can leave. Do you mind terribly waiting in the TARDIS for me?"

"Sure," she eagerly replied, happy for the chance to stay out of an awkward situation.

"Brilliant. I'm just about to go. Why don't I give you a lift."

"Sure, just let me say goodbye to Melissa." Hastily, Martha shoved her night clothes and toiletries into a bag.

Walking with the Doctor to the kitchen, Martha wished she had never overheard the conversation she had listened to this morning. Trying to keep the sympathy out of her eyes, she gave Melissa a friendly hug. "Thanks so much for taking me to Pike's Peak and letting me stay with you and your family. It was a pleasure to meet you."

Melissa responded warmly. "It was nice meeting you, Martha. I can't tell you how glad I am that you're travelling with him. You're welcome here anytime."

As the two left, Melissa began to make a large pot of hot chocolate. She thought that everyone was going to need the comfort of the warm, sweet beverage very soon.

Too quickly for her liking, the Doctor returned with Susan and Matthew. Meeting her worried children in the den, she squeezed her friend's hand in appreciation and began to speak. "I need to tell you about something that happened to me a few weeks ago . . ."


	21. The Year that Never Was

Author's Notes - This chapter jumps to the Year that Never Was. Again, it's been edited to bring it to a T rating, although it's definitely not a happy chapter. And, I promise this isn't the last time the fob watch comes into play.

* * *

><p>If Jack wondered why the Doctor had sent Martha on a risky food run when they were Britain's Most Wanted, he didn't have to wait long for the explanation. As soon as she was out of earshot, the Time Lord quit taking apart her mobile and directed his gaze at his former companion. "We need to talk."<p>

Grinning self-consciously, he wondered if a bit of innuendo would be appropriate, but seeing the grimness of the Doctor's face, he quickly abandoned the thought. "Is this where you tell me your skin still crawls at the sight of me, and you'd prefer I'd leave?"

"WHAT? No, how could you think? I mean, honestly, Jack, I am a bit rude this time, and maybe I should have chosen my words more carefully, but you can't think I still want to run away from you, can you?"

"I'm not sure what to think," he admitted ruefully. "You sent Martha away so you could speak to me in private, but this time, Doc, I can't imagine what you might have to say."

Starting to pace, the Doctor ran his hand through his hair repeatedly, as if it would help him think. "Jack, if there was any way I could undo what happened to you, I would."

His voice held a degree of sincerity that his former companion did not question, but it was what was left unsaid that bothered the Torchwood leader the most. "But you don't regret leaving me," he remarked shrewdly.

"No. I had to protect Rose," he admitted quietly. Spinning, he walked around the makeshift table, coming within inches of the Captain's face. "I could try to blame it on the fact I was dying, but the truth is I couldn't imagine telling Rose what she had done. She cared for you very much, but the guilt would have destroyed her. Eventually, she remembered killing the Daleks, but she never remembered bringing you back to life. I told her you were busy rebuilding the Earth, and she seemed to accept that."

He put his hands on the immortal's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Jack. Sorry for putting her welfare above your own. When it came to Rose, I was always somewhat selfish, and I ended up doing some pretty stupid things."

Gazing into the Doctor's eyes, Jack saw the pain that had always been present multiplied tenfold. "It was Rose. It wasn't selfishness; it was love."

Swallowing painfully, the Time Lord finally admitted, "Yeah."

Suddenly, Jack was embracing his friend as he felt the weight of a century lift. "Now, tell me you've got a plan to unmask Saxon and get the TARDIS back."

Grinning, the Time Lord clapped him on the back. "I've always got a plan." Sobering, he added, "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad we cleared the air, Captain, but that isn't what I needed to discuss."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

Hating to burden his friend, he resumed tinkering with the components of the mobile as he spoke. "I need you to promise me that if something goes wrong, you'll use your Vortex Manipulator to get you and Martha away."

"Nice try, Doc, but I'm not leaving you. The Master can't kill me, remember?"

"He'll use both of you to get to me. And Martha can certainly die. I can't let that happen; you have to promise me."

"Fine," Jack grinned, seeing the loophole. "I'll make sure Martha gets away."

"Jack." The Doctor drawled out his name, turning the extra syllables into a reprimand. "I appreciate your loyalty, but you have no idea what a Time Lord bent on causing pain can do. He hates you, Jack. He'll hurt you any way he can, and he's going to try to break you. He's jealous, Captain."

"Say that again."

"What, that I appreciate your loyalty? 'Course I do. Never had a companion tell anyone 'never doubted him, never will', at least not to the Dalek Emperor."

"No," he replied impatiently, although he filed away the compliment to contemplate at a more leisurely time. "After that, verbatim."

Just as impatiently, the Doctor answered, "I said, 'you have no idea what a Time Lord bent on causing pain can do. He hates you, Jack. He'll hurt you any way he can, and he's going to try to break you. He's jealous, Captain'."

Stunned, Jack paled. "She told me that! I didn't understand it at the time, but she was talking about him!"

"What are you going on about? Who said that to you?" The mobile was again forgotten.

"Melissa told me the very same thing after she had a nightmare." Thinking furiously, he suddenly remembered. "He was there, Doc! I left her alone with him in the restaurant. What if her collapse was caused by him? I need to warn her!"

"You can't," he answered, deeply troubled. "You'll only draw attention to her. The Archangel network controls the phones. The Master's likely tracking all of our voices. How do you think he was able to hack into Martha's call to Leo? We just have to hope he doesn't know where she is."

Agitated, Jack begged his friend. "We have to do something, Doc. What if he's got her already?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the Doctor stared unseeing at the jumble of electronic components on the makeshift table. "Maybe he won't find her."

After a long pause as he bitterly thought maybe just wasn't good enough, Jack turned his attention to the problem at hand. "Need any help building those perception filters?"

"Always knew you were clever, Captain. No need for assistance; I'm almost finished. I hear Martha returning. Promise me that if for some reason we get captured, you'll make sure she gets away."

"I promise," he answered immediately, noting with relief that his friend was no longer insisting that he be abandoned if the worse should happen. Still, it would be far better for everyone if Plan A worked, he thought as he, too, heard Martha's approach.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

With a jolt the Doctor realized that today was eight months exactly since Martha's escape from the Valiant and the Master's reign of terror over the Earth. He didn't often lose track of time, but attuning himself to the Archangel Network took a sufficient amount of concentration that he had momentarily forgotten.

Sitting inside his little tent, he cringed inwardly, knowing that the Master would have something perverse planned for the anniversary. The deranged Time Lord was obsessed with the marking of the passage of time, and today would be no exception.

Stoically, he shuffled out of his tent when his fellow Time Lord rang the hated bell, crawling into the wheelchair the Master insisted he use. He looked pityingly at his childhood friend, wondering yet again how someone so generous had become so twisted. Not speaking, he stared straight ahead when the Master bent close to whisper taunts in his ear.

"For eight months I have had your little pet Freak tortured, raped and killed over and over and over again. And I admit that I've never come close to breaking him. He has incredible strength of will, for a human. And I know how proud you've been of the mighty Captain Jack, so I thought it only fitting that we both watch as he crumbles."

The Doctor's stomach clenched reflexively in fear. He had been so very proud of Jack. The Captain's spirit had been one of the few things to be proud of during his lonely stay on the Valiant. Not that the Master hadn't done horrible things to his friend, but each time Jack refused to cower in terror or beg for mercy, it gave the Doctor enough strength to continue his own agonizingly slow march towards insurrection. Attuning his mind to the satellites was painful and exhausting, and he was afraid that he would have given up long ago if not for Jack's constant reminder of just what he was fighting for.

Not knowing the turmoil in the Doctor's mind, the Master continued to gloat. "You see, a former prisoner of UNIT recently came to my attention. Funnily enough, he promised me that he knew exactly how to break the Freak, so I brought him here. He's in the interrogation room, working on the good Captain even as we speak. I thought it would be fun to watch." Using a remote control, the Master brought a huge screen down from the ceiling and tuned it to the camera feed of the interrogation room.

What he saw brought tears to the Doctor's eyes, although he was careful not to let his enemy see how badly it had affected him. Major Marshall, formerly of UNIT, had Jack's face pressed against the concrete wall as he brutalized the Captain. But that was not the most horrific sight in the room. No, the most horrific sight was the look of despair on his friend's face as he quietly accepted what the psychopath was doing to him, without the usual bravado, criticism or physical resistance.

Standing over the Captain as his life slowly drained away, Marshall gloated and threatened simultaneously. "When you wake up, I'm going to do that to you again, or something much worse, and you're not going to make a sound, are you, Freak? Because if you do, I'll tell that maniac exactly where he can find his little red-haired witch."

Seeing Jack's look of disbelief, Marshall assured him, "Oh, yes, she's alive and well for the moment, Harkness. In fact, she's quite the thorn in our lord and Master's side, not that the idiot realizes it."

As Jack's eyes began to close from shock and blood loss, Marshall kicked him savagely in the ribs to ensure his captive's undivided attention. "You know, the way things worked out, I should probably thank the Doctor for preventing me from killing her when I had the chance, although I'll never forgive him for interrupting me when he did. I always thought she was the ice queen, but she's anything but. She begged me to do it again to show her how a real man fucks a woman. After all, you're not exactly a real man, are you Freak?"

For a second, it looked like Jack was going to stand up and choke Marshall where he stood, but the momentary hint of resistance faded as his eyes once again shut. This time, Marshall could not rouse him, no matter how many kicks to his side. Impatient, he took out his gun and shot the Captain in the head.

The Master looked speculatively at the Doctor, his wild eyes suddenly calculating. "Well, well, well, it seems that killing every ginger female in United Kingdom did not take out the Bad Wolf's feisty servant after all. How utterly fascinating! And you knew all along, didn't you, Doctor? Is that why you've been sitting there silently for months? Have you been mocking my efforts?"

Knowing that his silence would only fuel the Master's insanity at this point, the Doctor quietly answered. "No, Master, no. I haven't been mocking your efforts. You know what I need to say."

Enraged, the Master tipped the wheelchair, spilling the Doctor on the ground. "And you know I don't want to hear it! Unconsciously mimicking Marshall, the Time Lord began to viciously kick the Doctor in the ribs, until his aged enemy was wheezing painfully.

Calming somewhat, the Master looked down on the Doctor, hatred blazing in his eyes. "You'd like me to punish you, wouldn't you? Think I'll forget about her warnings then, do you? Well, let me tell you what I'm going to do because of your treachery, Doctor. I'm going to have a nice little chat with Major Marshall, and then my men are going to retrieve that red-haired siren and bring her to the Valiant. I bet she's much more entertaining than Lucy, especially with you and the Freak watching. And when I'm done with her, I'm going to give what's left to Marshall, and he's going to finish what you interrupted."

"But for now," the Master continued, almost soothingly, whispering once again in the Doctor's ear. "You are going to stay here and watch Marshall play with the Freak, as long as I tell you to. And if I catch you looking away just once, I will give the lovely Tish Jones to him and tell him to break her, do you understand me?"

Not trusting himself to speak, the Doctor nodded, tears falling uncontrollably down his face.

The rest of the day was a blur as the Doctor stared at the gigantic screen, silently watching Marshall destroy Jack over and over and over again. Finally, though, even Marshall tired of the torture, leaving the Captain alone in the interrogation room, which was now filled with blood and gore. Helpless, the Doctor watched in despair as Jack sat in a corner on the floor, hugging himself for warmth as sobs wracked his body.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Desperate to do something, the Doctor glanced surreptitiously around the room, grateful to find it empty. According to his internal clock, it was eleven at night, and the large conference room would only be guarded from the outside. Carefully, he extended his heightened senses to seek the Master, finding him in his quarters with Lucy. He quickly retreated, lest his childhood friend sense his revulsion and pity and determine the Doctor's connection to the Archangel Network.

Gathering his resolve and energy, the Doctor attempted something he had not dared to do just a week previously. It was dangerous and would definitely be taxing, but it was crucial that he succeed. Steeling himself for the mental strain, the Doctor closed his eyes and concentrated until he could see his friend.

"Jack," the Doctor called softly, standing sorrowfully amidst the nightmare of the interrogation room.

"Doc?" Jack whispered, unbelieving. "How did you get here?"

"I'm not. Well, not exactly," the Doctor confessed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking just like his normal self. "I'm in your mind, Jack." Looking at the scene before him, however, he added thoughtfully, "Although, maybe it would be better if you were in mine."

Suddenly, Jack's perception changed, and he was standing inside the tiny cheap flat that he recognized as having belonged to Jackie Tyler. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and could hear the whistle of a kettle coming from the imaginary kitchen.

"What the hell?"

The Doctor was sitting at the tiny dining room table, holding up a mug. "Tea?"

"Uh, okay," his friend answered as he docilely sat in a chair, completely flummoxed.

They both went through the rituals of fixing their tea and drinking a few sips before either felt like speaking. Since Jack was still bewildered, it was the Doctor who began.

"I'm so sorry, Jack. He made me watch, all of it."

The Captain swallowed nervously, his mug shaking in his hand. He bent his head down, appalled that his friend had seen his weakness.

"Look at me, Jack," the Doctor gently pleaded, taking the mug out of his trembling hands.

Eventually, he did look up, shame clouding his features. "I thought I was invincible. You warned me he would go to any lengths to break me, and now she's going to pay the price."

"No she's not," the Doctor answered resolutely. "We're not going to let him. Locking eyes with his friend, he asked quietly, "Do you trust me?"

"With her life," he replied solemnly.

Suspecting what his friend's initial reaction would be, the Doctor hesitated for a moment before speaking. "When Marshall comes back, I want you to kill him."

"WHAT! I should have known! Get the hell out of my mind! You are not going to make me betray the Doctor!" Unconsciously, Jack was standing in front of the Doctor, once again wearing his World War II era clothes down to the greatcoat, his Webley pointing at his friend's temple.

"Calm down." The Doctor spread his hands wide in a gesture of surrender. He was very impressed with the Captain's ability to alter his mindscape, and he didn't want to test Jack's ability to wound him mentally. "It's me, Jack; I promise it's me. I know killing Marshall goes against almost everything you've ever seen me do, but hear me out."

Jack regarded the Doctor suspiciously. "First, convince me you're not the Master."

"Oi! What happened to never doubted him never will?" But he smiled as he said it, and then sobered. "Fair enough, Captain. I could tell you something just you and I know, but if I am the Master, then I've no doubt hijacked your memories by now. So, I'm just going to have to tell you something only I know. I'm so sorry, Jack."

Playing with the handle of his mug, the Doctor stared at the table while he spoke quietly. "Marshall knocked on Melissa's door and she opened it without looking to see who was there. She thought he was already in prison, and that was her only mistake. The man's three times as big as she is, and she still blames herself for not getting away. She has a black belt in karate; can you believe that? Anyway, she seems to think it was weakness on her part that he was able to pin her against the wall, choking her to the point of unconsciousness. Then, he dragged her down to the basement."

In the corner of his eye, the Doctor could see the gun waver, but he knew Jack needed to hear what happened next to combat what Marshall had taunted him with. "I must have arrived just a few minutes later. When I went downstairs, I found him on top of her."

"Stop, I can't take any more." His friend was sitting at the table, pressing his hands against his ears as if to stop himself from hearing what the Doctor was telling him.

"I am sorry. Sorry for all of it, Captain. Marshall's a sick psychopath who thought of Melissa as less than a person. He assumed a relationship between the two of us because of the bank account, of all things. I don't know how UNIT allowed a deranged xenophobe to join their ranks, but I made it absolutely clear to them that a repeat wouldn't be tolerated." Taking Jack's gun, the Doctor placed it in front of him.

"I never wanted to burden you with this, Jack, but I need you to understand how I could even contemplate killing Marshall. When I saw what he was doing, something very primitive overtook me, and I wanted nothing more than to kill him then and there. Only the knowledge of what his death would do to causality kept me from throwing him against the wall and breaking his neck. Instead, I forced him to confess and sent him to prison. We cannot let him hurt Melissa again, Jack. She's an incredibly strong person, but he will crush her spirit before he kills her outright."

When his friend finally answered, he voice was raspy with emotion. "Today was one of the few days that I wished I could die, Doctor. As terrible as it sounds, I will relish killing him. But how is that going to stop the Master from finding her? Surely, Marshall's told him where she's hiding by now?"

"Let me take care of that, Jack. I'll be able to reach her just as I reached you." Pulling his friend into a hug, the Doctor apologized. "I've got to go. When I leave, you're going to be right back where you were. I'm sorry."

"I thought I had lost everything and tonight you gave me hope. Don't worry, Doc. I can take it from here."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Martha Jones shivered as she walked towards her next rendezvous with the American resistance. Only the foolhardy, or truly desperate would have attempted to cross the Rockies in the winter, but at times Martha felt she was both, and wasn't all that surprised to find herself safely in the foothills of Colorado Springs at the end of January. What she did find surprising was just who was there to meet her.

"Tommy Frakes?"

Pulling up the hood on his parka, Tommy's face broke into a wide grin. "Martha Jones! It's good to see you again, although I wish it weren't in these circumstances. Year's almost over, though, isn't it? Everything will be put right soon."

"How do you know that?" Martha asked warily. While news of her resistance had spread throughout the globe, the details of the plan had never arrived ahead of her.

"We have our ways." He grinned as he took her backpack and placed it into the black sedan he was driving. "Been preaching 'think Doctor' up and down I-25 the last two months; that is, when we aren't blowing up missile silos."

Appeased, Martha sat appreciatively in the warm car. "I'd heard the Colorado resistance was especially effective, but I had no idea you had already gotten my message."

"The message's slowly going out, but our commander thinks it would be beneficial for you to address a group in Denver two nights from now, if you're so inclined. The bulk of the Southern forces won't be here to pick you up until Saturday; that gives us four days to enjoy your company."

"That's what I do, Tommy; I talk. I'd be happy to address a group in Denver." Tired, Martha closed her eyes, confident that the soldier could get her to safety.

Cautiously driving on the darkened streets, Colonel Frakes followed a circuitous route to reach the commander's headquarters. Martha had fallen asleep on the drive, and waking was sure she was dreaming. Why were they at this particular house?

"Martha!" Melissa wrapped Martha Jones in a warm hug as she unsteadily got out of the car. She had experienced many instances of déjà vu in the last eight months, but none quite as surreal as this.

"Melissa? Why are we at your house? Are you with the Colorado resistance?"

"Um, something like that," Melissa acknowledged awkwardly while leading Martha through the dark house and down into the basement. Clinically, Martha noted that the woman had a noticeable limp and her face seemed to be pinched in perpetual pain. Still, it was good to see her, and even better to see what waited inside. Sealed away from prying eyes, the basement was well lit, warm and heavy with the smell of grease and syrup.

"You're cooking pancakes?" Martha couldn't believe what she was seeing. On a sturdy table, an electric griddle sat next to a large stack of pancakes. On another plate was a pile of hot, sliced meat that smelled so good her mouth was watering just thinking about eating some of it. It had been a very long time since she had eaten anything but field rations and half rotten fruit.

"Thought we could have a celebration before everyone gets down to business," Melissa explained self consciously, smiling at the five men already seated around the table.

Remembering the stockpiles of food and water that the Doctor's friend had stored in the basement before the Master had taken over, Martha guessed that she had been put to good use by the resistance as a cook. Happily sitting down at the table, she smiled eagerly. "I can't tell you when the last time was I ate a real meal. Thanks, Melissa."

"Don't know if you can call this a real meal," one of the men commented wryly. "Does Spam count as real meat?"

Melissa smiled good-naturedly as she finished cooking the pancakes, pointing her spatula at the man. "If you don't want any, Reynolds, you can relieve Mitch from guard duty. He likes Spam."

"Didn't say I didn't like it, ma'am; just wondering if it counted as meat." Reynolds was tall and thin with ragged brown hair, reminding Martha of the Doctor on a superficial level, but there was something about him that also screamed military; she couldn't place her finger on what it was exactly, but she had learned to pick up on it in the months she had travelled the world.

The four other men seated at the table were built more like lumberjacks, or at least what Martha imagined lumberjacks would look like. She hadn't actually met one on her journey yet. But, they were all big, muscular and beefy, and all but looked like former civilians in her mind's eye. The one who didn't, who was dark and seriously attractive, was staring at her in frank appreciation, and it made Martha somewhat intrigued and slightly nervous.

Sensing Martha's uneasiness, Melissa placed the serving plates on the table and glared at Mr. Handsome, who dropped his gaze as soon as he noticed her censure.

The table was crowded by the time Melissa and Tommy joined them, but food was plentiful and delicious. In addition to the pancakes and Spam, there was real maple syrup, orange marmalade and a fruit salad, although it was made up entirely of canned fruit. There was even milk to drink, even if it was reconstituted evaporated milk. To Martha and the rest, it tasted wonderful.

Conversation at dinner was sparse; everyone was too hungry to speak much, so Martha privately tried to decide which one of the men was the famed leader of the Colorado resistance movement as she filled her stomach. Once the meal was finished, she noted in surprise that all the men hurried to clear the table and wash the dishes while Melissa fixed coffee and tea and took a large bag of Oreo cookies out of the storage vault.

Sitting next to Martha, she started a friendly conversation. "So, how was your trip over the Rockies? I hope you didn't run into that blizzard we got a few days ago; we were all worried."

"It wasn't too bad," Martha allowed graciously, now that she wasn't hiking the last bit in knee deep snow. "We were able to use an SUV for a while, then switched to ATVs before we were forced to use cross country skis and snowshoes. Took about two weeks, but it's over and I think I've seen enough snow for a lifetime. Maybe once this is all over I'll move to the Canary Islands."

"That sounds fun; maybe I'll come visit." She served Martha tea and cookies as the men finished the kitchen work and slowly came back to the table to enjoy dessert.

Once the dishes were clean and the leftovers taken outside to the unfortunate Mitch, the resistance leaders got down to business.

Tommy Frakes started the meeting. "Thanks for the dinner Melissa; it's always fun to eat here when you entertain guests. Makes it feel nice and homey." After Melissa smiled in response, he continued briskly, "And we've got a good number of guests today, most notably the great Martha Jones, who's travelled all this way from England to spread her message about the Doctor throughout the world."

Martha looked embarrassed, but secretly she preened under his praise. It had been a long eight months, full of horrors and hardships, and it was nice sometimes to be appreciated by those she was trying to save. She was enjoying the compliment so much that she almost missed the rest of the introductions, but she managed to focus on the meeting just in time.

"Sam Washington is the leader of the Southern Resistance. His forces are going to get you safely to Shreveport, Martha. That bastard has an engine factory there that uses forty thousand people as slave labor." As Tommy spoke, Mr. Handsome smirked at Martha, giving her a jaunty wave.

"Along the way, you'll pass through Texarkana territory, which is run by Eric Benson; say hello, Eric."

"Hello, Eric," the man in question replied cheekily, earning him a laugh from Martha and a swat with a kitchen towel by Melissa. Martha revised his estimate of him as a lumberjack and penciled in the description of cowboy, although he was wearing jeans and flannel shirts just like the rest of them.

Tommy Frakes just rolled his eyes and continued as if Eric hadn't spoken. "Paul Anderson is the leader of the Midwest, Martha." As the blond Paul nodded his head in her direction, Tommy was adding, "Don't worry about trying to keep everyone straight; by the end of the meeting you'll remember everyone's names."

"And Reynolds, who was skating on thin ice earlier this evening by insulting Melissa's cooking, is the second in command of the Northeast region." Reynolds looked sheepish for a moment before blowing a kiss at Melissa, who accepted it with good grace.

Finishing, Tommy added, "And, of course, you know me, Martha. After your praise of the Colorado resistance earlier today, I'm embarrassed to say that the state is in the mid Atlantic region, which I command. And, since everyone's met Melissa before, there's no need to introduce her."

"Thanks, Tommy; you make me feel special, as always," she replied sarcastically, although there was warmth evident in her tone.

Taking over the meeting, she addressed the group, "Okay, we have two important things to talk about tonight, the first of which is getting Martha through the Eastern half of the US within three months. Sam, you want to enlighten us?"

"Sure," Mr. Handsome replied affably. "Kansas doesn't have many people left after that bastard turned Topeka into a uranium processing facility and relocated everyone in Wichita to Oklahoma City to work in the steel factories. As far as Martha's concerned, there's no reason to go there. Eric and I've decided to take her by way of Amarillo and Ft. Worth, stopping along the way to let her pass her message along."

Eric interrupted, adding, "We've got a team of six ready to take the Doctor's instructions to Houston and Corpus Christi. They're both ports that that bastard is using to ship the rocket components to Brazil, and the people are ready for some good news there."

"Good," Melissa commented as she motioned for Sam to continue.

"After Shreveport, we're taking her to Atlanta, Charlotte, then Knoxville and Nashville where Paul is going to take over. We also have teams in place in those cities to take the Doctor's message to Florida, Alabama and southern Georgia, but we're going to wait until Martha arrives to start spreading the word. We want people to be surprised when they hear Martha's stories from her own mouth before we start using teams of disciples."

Shrewdly, Melissa contradicted him. "Get started passing the message as soon as your people are ready, Sam. Martha's just one person, and the Doctor's going to need as many people as possible encouraging him during the countdown. Yes, it will be good for some to hear the stories directly from her, but we're running out of time. I think Martha wants to be back on British soil when this all ends, don't you, Martha?"

Still struggling to understand why Melissa of all people seemed to be running the meeting, Martha stumbled over her answer. "What? I mean, yes, I'd like to be in Britain by the countdown."

"Thought you might. Better chance of being where the action is that way." Melissa gave her a conspiratorial look before proceeding. "Okay, Paul, impress me. How are you getting Martha through your territory?"

Somewhat self-conscious, Paul began hesitantly. "Well, since that bastard raided our headquarters in Evansville three months ago, it's been difficult knowing which members of the movement are trustworthy. So many people were killed and it's impossible to know if the rest were turned, so I'm afraid I'll be escorting Martha through the Midwest personally."

Melissa frowned, thinking. "You're too well known by now, Paul. It was only a miracle that you were here three months ago. Even I've seen your wanted posters, and that's saying something since I don't go out as much as I used to."

"What choice do I have, ma'am? There are too many people left in the Midwest to ignore."

Tommy Frakes smoothly cut in. "Isn't Mitch originally from Chicago?"

Relieved, Melissa nodded. "He is, and he had family in Indiana and Kentucky. There's Martha's escort, Paul. Now, why don't you tell us where she's going?"

"Thanks. I hate to say it, but I trust your second much more than I do my own people at the moment." Collecting himself, he sounded much more professional as he continued. "I plan to take Martha through Frankfort, Kentucky, and up to Columbus, Ohio. If our luck holds, we'll be able to backtrack to Indianapolis and then go up to Chicago. Due to the heavy Toclafane presence in Michigan, we're going to have to avoid Detroit, but we should have no problem getting to Cleveland, Ohio, and turning her over to Lyle near Erie, Pennsylvania. That is, if you're up for it Lyle?"

"You know I'm always up for it," Lyle Reynolds answered with a swagger and good natured leer. For some reason the man's bravado seemed to make Melissa tear up, and Martha watched curiously as the men in the room looked briefly away while the woman hastily blew her nose.

"Anyway," Reynolds continued slightly more subdued, "We're taking Martha to Lexington, Virginia, after a quick stop in Pittsburgh; then it's over to Norfolk to visit one of the shipyards. D.C., as you know, is pretty well deserted, but we're going to go up I-95 all the way to New Haven before Martha has to leave. We've got some multinational UNIT troops coming over from Iceland to help her get back to Britain. The plan is to get her back as close to the countdown as possible. We don't want that bastard figuring out she's anywhere near there until it's too late."

"Good job, Reynolds," Melissa said sincerely, then included the rest. "And good job to all of you. Any questions, Martha?"

"A few," Martha answered instantly, still not understanding the chain of command. "First of all, no offense, Melissa, but are you like, the secretary or something?"

Reynolds and Washington snorted with laughter as Melissa's cheeks reddened. "No, Martha, although I can understand your confusion. Actually, these guys report to me. I'm the leader of the resistance movement for the Eastern U.S."

"You're the Coyote?" Martha gasped, unable to reconcile her memories of her last visit to the Morgan household with the almost mythic stories she had heard throughout the Americas about the famed Coyote. "Sorry, it's just that the last time I was here. . . ." She trailed off, not knowing how to finish. She didn't want to bring up Melissa's rape in front of her male subordinates, especially when she wasn't even supposed to know about it.

"Well, Tommy wouldn't let me name my gang the wolverines," Melissa joked, although the movie reference went over the younger woman's head. "Believe me, I never expected to be doing any of this, but it just sort of happened. And, I thought that since you knew me before the Toclafane, you might feel more comfortable hearing the plan from the people who will ultimately be responsible for your well being."

"But I thought you were killed in Memphis?" Everyone had heard about the sabotage in Tennessee. The Coyote had liberated a work camp single handedly before blowing up the massive weapons factory attached to it. Supposedly, the Toclafane had captured and executed the Coyote before he could make a clean escape.

"I was shot in Memphis," she corrected forbiddingly, unconsciously grimacing from the memory. "That bastard has human collaborators working for him. The commandant of the work camp didn't like the fact that I managed to blow up the factory; meant he didn't have a job anymore. He caught up with me just as I reached my car. The idiot had a pistol, although thankfully he wasn't a great shot. I made it to Tupelo before passing out, and that's where Sam found me. He patched me up very well, didn't you, Sam?"

"Wish I could have fixed your leg better, Mel," Sam answered sincerely. "Raids haven't been as much fun without you."

"I get to hear about them on the CB. Sounds like you're still having fun down there." Glancing at Martha, Melissa added with a wink. "Sam's group's going to blow up the chemical refineries in southern Louisiana the day you leave for the UK. That should distract the bastard."

"That it should," Tommy avowed with a twinkle in his eye. "Sorry for the subterfuge, Martha. Melissa didn't want you to feel uncomfortable during dinner. I promise she's more than capable leading our band of merry men. Believe me; women can be much more conniving when plotting an insurgency. What she lacks in training she makes up by pure spitefulness.

"Still in the room, Tommy. Besides, I don't think you need to lecture her about how capable women can be." Melissa forced a smile as she held her hand up for quiet. "Okay, Martha, next question."

"How did you find out about the Doctor's plan? I mean, I've been spreading the story now for eight months, but I've never had it arrive before I did."

Inexplicably, everyone in the room suddenly seemed uncomfortable, and it was Tommy Frakes who finally spoke up when it became clear Melissa wasn't about to explain. "Well, Martha, it seems Melissa here has a gift that's occasionally been very useful to us. I don't pretend to understand what it is, even after being involved in all that psychic research shit the Air Force did in the early 90's. Anyway, Melissa occasionally gets flashes of, oh, hell, I don't know, let's call it knowledge, that's she's been kind enough to share. The last flash she got was right before she left for Memphis; told us all about the grand plan. About scared the shit out of Sam, too, didn't it, Sam?"

"I won't pretend that seeing that voodoo was a might disconcerting, Tommy. No offense, ma'am."

"Sam, I can't really take offense when I don't remember what happened, can I?" Melissa smiled, but it was apparent to everyone but Martha that the pain of her injury was bothering her more than usual; besides, discussing her "gift" was never something she enjoyed.

Addressing Martha, Melissa continued, "Look, Martha, believe me, I know this all sounds weird, and I'm sure you've had enough of that this year to last a lifetime. All I know is that I get headaches and end up saying stuff I don't remember, but it's usually been helpful, so the guys and I don't question it very much. We don't talk about it very much, either. Nobody really wants to know their leader's part freak."

Abruptly changing the topic, Melissa asked for each leader's plans for distracting the Master and his Toclafane on the day of Martha's departure from the U.S. Martha listened halfheartedly, still wondering about Melissa. When the meeting finally broke up, she was left temporarily alone in the basement with Frakes while Melissa went outside to speak to her second in command, Mitch.

"Where are Susan and Matthew?' Martha finally asked when the silence between stretched a little long.

Colonel Frakes' expression was enough to tell Martha all she needed to know, but he calmly answered her question. "They were killed in the first wave of the Toclafane attacks. Melissa had had one of her migraines the night before that bastard put on his little show on the Valiant, and we were all in the Emergency room when the decimation started. The kids panicked and ran outside. I think Melissa would have joined them, but I grabbed her and shoved us inside a closet until I couldn't hear the screams anymore. Sometimes, I think she's still angry at me for not letting her die with her children."

"So you and she aren't . . . ?"

"Nothing like that," he hastily assured her. "My interests lie in another direction, for one thing, and we think from some of the comments she's let slip that she had someone else, but she won't talk about him. Must have be a pretty special guy, though. Lyle's tried to get her to sleep with him often enough."

Staring at the world's appointed herald for several long seconds, Tommy Frakes decided to confide in her. "I wish she'd talk to someone. She scares me sometimes, Martha. I know this is personal for her; hell, it's personal for all of us, but sometimes she acts with a viciousness that turns my heart cold. She's a natural tactical genius, and her hand to hand combat is some of the best I've ever seen, even with her height disadvantage, but there are times I swear she likes killing the collaborators more than disrupting the Master's plans. Other times, she's so emotional, I don't know how she functions day after day. I stay here most nights I'm in town, and she wakes up crying in the middle of the night every time. I used to ask her about it, but she would pretend not to hear me until I finally gave up doing it. I can only hope that the Doctor's going to put everything right and she'll be the same woman I used to know."

"I told you never to use the 'M' word! You use that bastard's name again, Tommy, and you're out of a job. You got that?" Melissa's voice sliced through the momentary silence, and Martha just stared in consternation as the rebel leader painfully walked down the stairs, a furious expression on her face.

Once she had reached the basement, she leveled that fury at her friend. "Collaborators don't deserve to live, Tommy! Not when so many other people have died, and I'm not going to let you or anyone else tell me otherwise! And yes, I get emotional, but every time I dream about that bastard using one of his underlings to torture him, I feel sick! He doesn't deserve it! Nobody deserves any of this! It's all that sick, twisted bastard's fault, so don't you dare judge me, Tommy Frakes!"

Martha stared at Melissa in shock. She'd seen people turned bitter by the subjugation of the Earth, but spittle was flying out the woman's mouth, and there was a glint in her eyes that hinted of madness. Before she could say something, however, Tommy stepped in.

Calmly, he gazed into her turbulent green irises. "You know I'm not judging you, Melissa. I could never do that; we've all been through the wringer in the past eight months. I'm worried about you. I'm scared you're starting to enjoy the killing, and I care about you too much to see that happen."

Suddenly, she deflated, sitting heavily on a chair. "I know you do, Tommy, and I'm sorry. I promise I don't enjoy it, but I will do what's necessary. I refuse to let it end like this. That's why Martha's journey's so important."

Quickly, she gave the Doctor's companion a rueful half-smile. "I'm afraid you haven't caught me at my best, Martha, but I promise you that we will do our best to make sure you make it home in one piece. Right now, you're the most important person on the planet, and that means we're going to do anything to keep you safe."

Awkwardly, Martha nodded, not really knowing what to say. She was grateful when Melissa abruptly changed the subject. "Just us three tonight. Mitch is taking everyone else to their safe houses. We've decided Paul's going into hiding; there's just too much risk if he gets captured while Martha's still in the U.S."

"I bet Paul had a few things to say about that," Tommy answered dryly, ready to put their argument in the past.

"He did, but he takes orders well. We're closing down operations in the Midwest. A few raids against convoys and factories don't mean much in the long run, especially when it's Martha who has the real job to do. Mitch can get her through the region, and he doesn't need a network to do it." Finished speaking, she began to fix herself a cup of cold tea from the leftovers.

"That's just going to keep you awake," he warned gruffly.

"I'm immune to the caffeine by now, Tommy. Who said I wanted to sleep, anyway?" Turning her attention to Martha, she asked with concern, "You need anything, Martha? There's more food if you're hungry. I've got some pajamas upstairs that were Susan's you could wear, and if you don't mind taking your bath by candlelight, the hot water still works in my bathroom."

"That sounds wonderful," Martha answered in delight, although she still felt tense from witnessing Melissa's outburst. She didn't know the last time she had slept in clean clothes, or enjoyed hot water for that matter, however. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all," Melissa assured her. "You're safe enough so long as you keep the door closed up there. The window's blacked out in the bathroom. Tommy's going to drag out the mattresses in a minute, and I plan on reading for a while. It's been a long day."

"Great!" Martha replied, and hurried off to soak in a hot bath for the first time in months.

By the time she returned, clean, dry and wearing a pair of Susan's flannel pajamas, Melissa was soundly asleep, a paperback book by her side. "Sh," Frakes warned her unnecessarily, putting his finger to his lips.

Silently crawling onto her own mattress, which even had sheets, a pillow and warm blankets, Martha tried to contemplate all of the things she had learned that evening, but the bed was just too comfortable, and she was soon asleep.

Instantly alert, Martha remained motionless trying to decide what had awoken her. The basement seemed silent save the sounds of deep snoring. Then, she heard a soft, familiar sound, and understood that Melissa was crying quietly nearby.

"You okay?" She whispered so she wouldn't disturb Colonel Frakes.

"Fine, I had a nightmare. I'll be fine." She stopped sniveling, embarrassed that Martha had heard.

Tentatively, Martha inquired, "Do you really dream of the Doctor being tortured?"

"What? Oh. No, I've been dreaming about someone else. He keeps getting tortured and ra . . . killed over and over again in my mind, and I just can't sleep." By the time she had confessed to Martha what she couldn't bring herself to tell Tommy, she was crying again.

"I'm sorry," Martha replied hesitantly, not knowing how to comfort her. "My family's on the Valiant, you know. I guess it's a good thing that I don't dream about them much. My biggest nightmare is that the Doctor's been killed, and I'm doing this all for nothing, and the Master will win."

Rubbing her head, Melissa answered slowly, trying in vain to eradicate the vision of Jack's latest torture from her mind. "You can't give up hope now, Martha. Don't worry; the Doctor's alive; I just know it."

Surprised that she had ended up being comforted rather than doing the comforting, Martha squeezed Melissa's hand appreciatively. "You're right. He must be alive. I can't imagine a world without the Doctor. He's going to put this right, you'll see."

"He'd better," Melissa mumbled as she allowed her eyes to close. Slowly, she sank back to sleep. She burned again, later in her dreams, but the pain of that was nothing compared to the pain of Jack's suffering and for once it did not wake her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two days later, Melissa, Martha, Tommy Frakes and Sam Washington were nervously gathered near the entrance to Invesco Field. There were fifteen thousand people inside Mile High Stadium, all waiting to hear what the illustrious Martha Jones had to tell them. Most had come from the circuitry plant near the stadium, filling the lower seating section by the twos and threes as they avoided the routine Toclafane patrols.

Martha lived up to her hype and expectations. Her sincerity was apparent to everyone, and she chose stories of the Doctor that showed him at his most heroic. By the time she was finished, they were all chanting, 'Doctor, Doctor, Doctor', in unison, raising the decibel level dangerously high on an evening of so many patrols.

Trying to enjoy the show, Melissa leaned wearily against the concrete wall as Martha spoke. Inexplicably, she found herself back at home in her kitchen, sunlight streaming in from the open sliding glass door.

"Hullo!"

Frightened, she took a step backwards, bumping into the Doctor, who stood grinning behind her, two cups of tea in his hands.

"I'm hallucinating."

"Not quite," the Doctor explained as he put the cups of tea down and led her to a chair. "Cup of tea?"

"If I'm not hallucinating, then where are we?" she asked, her voice somewhat shrill.

"I'm in your mind, and we don't have much time before your people get too worried about you. Once they rouse you, the connection will be gone. I can't manage this for very long." With a start, she realized he looked incredibly fatigued.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm always alright," he began, but then stopped himself. "Well, not this time, not really, but I'll be alright. Actually, I'll be fine once I correct a few things and fix the timeline." Abruptly, he stood, "But enough about me. I came to warn you, Melissa. Wherever you are, you need to leave, right now and go very far away. The Master knows where you're hiding. Jack and I don't want you captured."

Hope filled her. "Jack's with you? I keep dreaming about that bastard ordering people to do horrible things to him, Doctor. What's happening to him?"

Intentionally, he avoided her questions. "Jack does not want you here, and neither do I." Rubbing his eyes, he added reluctantly, "Marshall's here. You cannot let yourself be captured, do you understand, Melissa?"

A ragged cry escaped her. "I dreamt of Marshall torturing Jack last night. All my nightmares, all those unspeakable things; they're really happening, aren't they?"

Exhausted, he put down the mental teacup. "You're picking up images from the Archangel network. Jack's a much better telepath than I thought; he may be broadcasting wide enough for your subconscious to notice. I'm sorry, but now do you understand why you have to hide? The Master's afraid of you; even if Marshall isn't around, he'll find a way to kill you."

"That bastard's afraid of me?"

"Most definitely," he replied with a hint of pride in his voice. "Told you-you're the strongest woman I know."

Fog began to appear and the Doctor seemed to flicker in and out of existence. "Look, I can't hold this much longer. You've got to run; promise me, you'll run!"

But he disappeared before she could answer.

Slowly opening her eyes, Melissa was surprised to see the worried visage of Sam Washington staring at her from above. "You alright, ma'am? You collapsed a few minutes ago. Tommy's gone to get Martha. She's finishing her talk; she's a doctor; she might be able to help."

Groaning, Melissa sat up slowly, ignoring the ever present pain in her right leg. "We've got to get Martha out of here. That bastard has troops on the way to find me. We can't let her get captured."

It was a measure of Sam's loyalty that he didn't ask how she knew, he simply started barking orders to the people nearby. Within minutes, she, Martha, Sam and Tommy were running down side streets and across the deserted interstate to pile into the car that would take them to safety as Martha's audience scattered in a dozen different directions.

Unfortunately, running was painful and difficult for Melissa, and she began to lag behind. When the Toclafane appeared, she was trailing the others by at least two hundred yards. Ducking into an abandoned building, she waited apprehensively for them to disappear. After forty-five excruciating minutes, the coast was clear and she carefully made her way to Elitch Gardens, hoping that Martha and the others had made it to the relative safety of the long abandoned amusement park.

Treading cautiously along the rusting roller coasters and broken rides, Melissa breathed a huge sigh of relief when she saw her friends waiting safely inside the getaway vehicle near the entrance to the park. Abandoning caution, she walked into the open to cover the last thirty feet to the car. It was a fatal mistake.

Saxon's crack troops had been deployed in Colorado Springs for six hours. After capturing a low level member of the Colorado Resistance, they were able to pinpoint the Mile High Stadium as their intended target. Arriving too late to capture Melissa there, they fanned out in all directions. When one of the Master's soldiers saw his target walking in the open, he quickly took aim with his pistol and fired a shot, forgetting in the heat of the moment that he was supposed to take her alive.

Melissa staggered as the bullet tore through her chest, falling heavily to the ground. Tommy and Sam were out of the car in an instant, killing the soldier and dragging Melissa to the car. As they sped away up I-25, Martha attempted to stop the bleeding, but worried it was a futile gesture.

Pulling onto a deserted highway, Tommy stopped the car, finding shelter inside a partially demolished gas station. Carrying Melissa inside, he gripped her hand tightly as Martha desperately attempted to save her life..

"Stop," Melissa rasped. "Hurts. And not doing good. Leave. Sam, Tommy, take Martha. Find Eric."

"We're not leaving you, ma'am," Sam replied loyally. "Patched you up once; we can do it again."

"Not this time," she wheezed between gasps of air.

Tommy, who was more pragmatic, tried to make her as comfortable as possible. "You want anything before we leave, Melissa?"

Closing her eyes against the pain, she managed to gasp. "Watch. In Matthew's backpack. Want to hold something of theirs."

Speaking quietly to Martha, Tommy asked her to open the trunk and find the watch. As she left, he and Sam tearfully made their goodbyes to a woman they had come to admire, respect and love.

When Martha returned a few minutes later, she was distracted and deeply troubled. Nervously, she held out the backpack. "The watch wasn't inside. I'm sorry, Melissa. I brought you the whole backpack so you could hold onto it."

Too short of breath to speak, Melissa managed to nod gratefully as Martha nervously placed Matthew's backpack in her hands.

"I'm sorry," the young woman told her apologetically, but she would not meet her eyes.

Knowing they were running out of time, Tommy pressed a tender kiss on his friend's cheek, and the trio left quickly. Alone, Melissa's eyes slowly closed as her grip on her son's backpack eventually loosened. Twenty minutes later, she was dead.

In the backseat of the car, Martha Jones rubbed the symbols of the singed silver fob watch that she was concealing in her pocket. She kept it hidden from view, burying it somewhere in the wilds of southern Colorado the next night.


	22. Conflicting Agendas

Author's Notes - Again, this chapter has been edited to a T rating. And, like the previous two, it still alludes to some dark themes. Unlike the other two, however, this one might lose a little with the editing. I think it's still understandable, though. In case you're wondering about the timing, this takes place sometime between the Master's cremation and dropping Jack off in Cardiff. Martha is busy delivering flowers to various people who no longer remember her.

Thanks to The Mouse's Rose for the review. As you can see, everything resets after The Year that Never Was. And, yes, I do promise the fob watch will be opened again, although probably not soon enough for everyone reading!

* * *

><p>The doorbell rang insistently as Melissa dozed in front of the TV. Her sleep recently had been plagued by horrific nightmares, and even the sensational news coverage of the crazy British Prime Minister shooting the President elect could not keep her interest. Blearily, she opened the door.<p>

"Jack!"

Immediately, she wrapped herself around him, pulling him forward into a breathless kiss. Inhaling his scent, her fingers dug into his back as she tried to convince herself that he was real and not some sleep induced dream. As soon as she accepted he was actually standing at her door, she put her head on his chest and started crying.

"Oi! Melissa, the Captain's wearing a brand new shirt. Might not want you to use it as a handkerchief." The Doctor appeared behind his friend, grinning wildly.

Stunned to see them both looking unscathed after her terrible dreams, she completely surprised the Doctor by letting go of Jack and embracing him tightly.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?"

Pulling herself together, Melissa turned to Jack, wiping her eyes. "I don't know. I've been having these horrible nightmares for the past few days. I keep seeing Saxon laughing, that bastard, and you being ra—hurt, and the Doctor all old, and I can't sleep and I think I'm starting to lose my mind."

The two men shared a significant glance before Jack kissed her forehead. "You don't have to worry about those nightmares any more, Sweetheart. They're over, okay?"

Reluctantly, she nodded and led them inside. Once in the house, she fell back on old habits, offering them something to drink and finding some cookies in the pantry to share. Even so, she found herself tightly holding Jack's hand as he drank his Coke, still not quite able to believe her eyes.

After finishing his ginger ale, the Doctor quietly asked, "How long have you had these nightmares, Melissa?"

Since the night that bastard shot the President elect. I had a migraine bad enough that the kids called Tommy Frakes and he took me to the Emergency Room. We got home about an hour after Winters was shot, and I went to bed. I woke up screaming about two hours later, but it felt like I had been dreaming for weeks. That was what, three days ago?"

"Yeah," Jack confirmed, squeezing her hand. Hesitantly, he asked, "Have you had any nightmares about you or the kids?"

Shocked, her face turned into a scowl. "They die. These floating metallic spheres kill them every time I go to sleep. How did you know?"

He didn't answer her. Instead, the Doctor gently prodded, "And you? Do you dream about yourself?"

Taking a deep breath, she tried and failed to keep her voice calm. "I, uh, I dream I was some sort of crazy rebel leader called the Coyote. But, in the end, I die, too. I get shot, and it hurts so much. They're as bad as the nightmares where I burn, but it's strange how these dreams go. Martha was there with Tommy. Weird, huh?"

"Martha was there?" Jack demanded sharply, but a subtle shake of the Doctor's head made him abandon his question.

Soothingly, the Time Lord cut in. "Funny how people and memories get all mixed up in dreams, isn't it? I'm sorry you've been having nightmares, Melissa. When I ran into Jack in Cardiff, I wanted to bring him to you to show you he was fine. We may have overshot the mark a little bit. I'm afraid I'm the reason he was missing in the first place."

Confusion clouded her features before she shrugged; it was easier to accept his strange explanation than to question it. Somehow, though, she didn't believe she was hearing the whole story. Something had happened to them both. She could tell by the dark smudges underneath their eyes and the way the Doctor had reacted to her hug. There had been no jokes after her embrace, and he had clung as tightly to her as she had to him.

Before she could comment on their appearance, Susan and Matthew bound in the front door, arguing about a piece of music the band was practicing for its upcoming end-of-year concert. The three adults stood immediately and went to meet the kids in the den.

"Dad!" Matthew ran to Jack, giving him a big hug. The Captain gripped the boy tightly, not wanting to let go. It was still difficult for him to accept that the year of hell had never happened for the rest of the world, and seeing Melissa, Susan and Matthew alive and whole almost brought him to tears.

When Jack continued to embrace him far longer than usual, Matthew finally asked, "You okay, Dad? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Just missed you, that's all," Jack answered gruffly, managing not to cry. "Look at you, Matthew! You're taller than I am; you going to reconsider basketball?"

"Nah, swimming's going really well. I might even make the national team this year, especially if I can get my backstroke time down a second."

"Matthew Morgan at the 2012 Olympics! I like the sound of that," the Doctor enthused, energetically pumping the boy's hand. He was just as glad as the Captain to see everyone, although he had much more practice at hiding his feelings.

Susan stood off to the side, looking at everyone warily. It was nice to know that Jack wasn't missing, but she didn't want him to sweep her mom off her feet again. Susan had enjoyed the prom very much, and wasn't going to let her mother even suggest moving to Cardiff again.

Melissa noticed her daughter's attitude and quietly asked, "Not happy to have company?"

"It's fine as long as I can still go out with Jose tonight. I don't think I should have to change plans just because they show up." Her tone was challenging and slightly sullen, causing Melissa to sigh in exasperation.

"No one's going to make you do anything you don't want to do, Sue. Besides, they look as tired as I feel. I don't think we're going to have any big plans tonight." Privately, she hoped for take out, a movie and sleep. Maybe with Jack by her side, she could banish her nightmares for good.

Matthew overheard his mother's conversation, and felt guilty for having his own plans. "You want me to call Jason and tell him I can't stay over tonight? His mom was going to make pizza and we were going to play Risk, but I can cancel."

"We'll be here a few days, Matt," Jack assured him. "Go on and have fun, both of you. We can do something tomorrow afternoon, how about that?"

"The rodeo's in town. Could we go tomorrow night?" Matthew grinned as he put a plaintive expression on his face. His Mom had said that watching a bunch of guys get bucked off animals they shouldn't even be riding wasn't her thing, but maybe Jack could talk her into it.

"Ooh, a rodeo! Haven't seen one of those since, well, a very long time. That sounds like fun; how about it, Captain? Want to go see some bucking broncos?"

The Doctor looked enthusiastic about something for the first time since the Valiant and Jack was more than willing to accommodate him. He put on his very best smirk. "When you put it like that, Doc, how can I resist? Rodeo it is then."

Melissa rolled her eyes, knowing her son had pulled a fast one.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Walking quietly into Melissa's darkened bedroom, the Doctor sat on the overstuffed chair near the bed. "How long has she been asleep?"

"About twenty minutes; even with me, she was afraid to fall asleep. I think we're in for a long night." Jack continued to rub her back; it had been the only way to get her to relax, but he found the act of touching her quite comforting, and didn't want to stop.

"Maybe not." Standing up, the Doctor bent over Melissa, placing his hands briefly on her face. "She'll sleep without dreaming tonight."

"You went into her mind?"

"Barely scratched the surface. Don't worry; I know better than to try to touch her mind. No telling what type of reaction I'd get." Turning to leave, he added lightly. "See you in the morning, Captain."

"Doc, wait." Jack slowly sat up, reluctant to ask for help. "Think you could do that to me?"

Suddenly ashamed that he hadn't thought of it before, the Doctor was glad that his friend couldn't see his reaction in the dark. "Of course, I should have asked you straight off. I haven't been at my best lately. Sorry, Jack. You should have said something sooner."

Since that was the closest the Time Lord had come to admitting just how much the year on the Valiant had affected him, Jack felt emboldened to ask, "Can you do that little trick on yourself, too?"

"I wish," he answered regretfully. "Don't worry, I moved the TARDIS to the guest bedroom. Lots of repairs to finish. Thought I would wait up for Susan and then do some work." Before his friend could protest his plans, the Doctor gently placed his hands on the Captain's face and eased him into a peaceful slumber. "Sleep well, Captain. You certainly deserve it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Whoa, those trick riders are totally awesome! And they're girls. How cool is that, Dad?" Matthew shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth almost before he finished speaking. He was having a great time at the rodeo, and still couldn't believe he was watching it with his mother, Jack and the Doctor. After everything that had happened to his mom in the last few months, it was almost too good to be true.

Jack put his hand on Matthew's shoulder, giving him a conspiratorial wink and a grin. "They are indeed awesome, but maybe you shouldn't act so surprised that they were women in front of your mother and sister."

Too excited to take the hint, Matthew responded quickly. "It's not like Mom or Sue could do anything like that. Mom's mom, and Sue, well, maybe she could draw a horse, but she definitely can't ride one. Besides, that girl in the blue spangled shirt is hot!"

The Doctor decided it was time for an intervention. Leaning forward to see Matthew on the other side of Jack and Melissa, he warned the boy humorously. "Oi, Matt, you can be ruder than me sometimes. Why don't you watch the next part before you get into any more trouble."

Matthew decided to take the Doctor's advice after seeing the look of spite on his sister's face. Susan had even moved one seat away from him. Once she saw her brother looking at her, she pretended not to notice him, concentrating on drinking her Icee.

When Matthew became engrossed in the next performance, Jack whispered in Melissa's ear. "Those trick riders were something else. Makes me wonder what else they can do with those ropes."

She punched him lightly on the arm. "Don't even go there, Jack Harkness. There are some things I really don't want to know."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Pressed up against the wall in her bedroom, Melissa was enjoying reacquainting herself with Jack's body. When he touched her, however, she frantically twisted away from him, her hands tightening into fists. Mentally kicking himself, he watched as she bent over, taking some deep slow breaths to combat her near hyperventilation.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to remind you of that."

Looking up, she saw the distress on his face and wished she hadn't been the cause of it. "He told you then," she stated, unsurprised.

"Yes."

Now angry at her reaction, she began to berate herself. "I was stupid and weak and it's over and it shouldn't bother me."

Quickly, he crossed the space between them, bending down to kiss her forehead. "Don't say that. You aren't stupid or weak and you have a right to feel the way you do." After a pause he added regretfully, "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

Together, they sat on the bed. "You were gone. It wasn't your fault, Jack."

"It wasn't yours, either." He gazed into her eyes, looking for some sign that she accepted what he said. He wasn't going to argue with her about his own culpability; it was a burden he would carry for a very long time.

Finally, she sighed, looking away. "I know that, I do. The Doctor said the same thing and so did Sarah Jane. I just, I can't help thinking, I mean—damn, this is harder than I thought it would be."

"He's a sick, twisted psychopath who would have found an excuse to hurt you no matter what. You did nothing to provoke him. There is no way in the world that you deserved any of what happened to you."

His rage intensified as he watched her wring her hands. Marshall was sitting in a comfortable cell outside of Denver, probably remembering with actions with glee, and it made Jack want to kill him all over again. Only this time, there would be no paradox machine to reverse it.

Abruptly, she kissed him, and his fury drained away as he responded to her passion. Pulling away, her face was a mixture of desire and determination. "Make love to me, Jack." He didn't hesitate, wanting to banish the ghost of Marshall as much as she did. In the end, they each found catharsis in the other.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa woke as Jack quietly closed the door to the bedroom. Staying still, she waited impatiently for his return as she tried to banish the terrible dream from her mind. She needed his arms around her. She needed his promise that her dreams were no more than her own fears morphing into something new and terrible. When he didn't return, she grabbed the clock, noting it was only two in the morning. Wondering where he had gone, she hastily put on some pajamas and a robe.

Not finding him in the kitchen and seeing that the front door was locked, she timidly made her way to the guest bedroom. In the corner, the door to the TARDIS was slightly ajar, and Melissa quietly entered, hoping the Doctor would not mind the intrusion.

She heard them, rather than saw. They were both underneath the grating, and it was obvious that they were making repairs to the ship. It was also apparent that neither knew she was in the TARDIS, although usually the Doctor had a sixth sense about such things. Just as she was about to announce herself, the fury in Jack's voice stopped her.

"I want to kill him for good this time, Doc."

"Yeah, well, that will get you a lifetime behind bars in this state, Jack, and considering your life, that's a very long time. Leave it. Marshall can't hurt either one of you again."

Strangely, the Doctor didn't sound offended by Jack's desire to kill even that monster, but it was his last words that caused her to cry out. Suddenly, she knew. Every nightmare she'd had was all too real. "Oh, God!"

They were both standing worriedly beside her before she could do much more than blink. "What's wrong?" the Doctor asked cautiously.

"I keep telling myself my nightmares are just figments of my overactive imagination. But they aren't, are they?"

"No."

The Doctor's reluctant answer brought a flood of memories, and suddenly she recalled the truth about Saxon. Her eyes were unfocused, and she hissed his name as if it hurt her to say it out loud. "That bastard!"

Suddenly, she sucked in a lungful of air, and her eyes locked onto both men, who regarded her warily. "I tried to keep you safe, and I failed miserably! The TARDIS, she called out to me, so much pain in the paradox, but I couldn't help her. I tried to tell you, Jack, just like I tried to warn you about that bastard, but you didn't understand. I made him stay away from your team. I knew it would hurt you to see them dying in front of you, but I couldn't protect you. How can you even look at me? It's my fault that Marshall hurt you. You must hate me."

As Jack stared at her in shock, the Doctor crept around, intending to touch her from the side. Before he could reach her, however, she turned abruptly towards him. "Don't touch me! For once, you're going to listen to what I have to say. She may yet guard my tongue, but you will heed my words."

This was scarily new; he had never known Melissa to be aware of what was happening to her as her mind expanded to dangerous levels, nor had he ever heard of something controlling her speech. Very calmly, he asked, "Who's she?"

She shot him a condescending look. He thought he knew so much, and yet he was so ignorant of what was happening around him. "The Bad Wolf."

His eyes hardened as she spoke that name, but she didn't let him interrupt. "She gave me a message to send to that bastard, and I was more than willing to comply, though it almost killed me. I wish she had let me kill him, instead. It would have been so easy. He's always been such a smug idiot; he never would have guessed until it was too late."

Then, pain blazing in her head, she added in fury. "He's dead, and I'm glad! Do you hear me? Glad! It's better to be alone than with that sick, twisted bastard! He deserved to die!"

Abruptly, she turned to Jack, and there was pain and regret and remorse in her voice rather than anger. "The Archangel gives me visions of the price you paid. But, it hurts so much, Jack. It hurts to remember."

She ended with a sob, crying uncontrollably. Her legs shaky, she gripped the console, fighting for consciousness. "Please don't be angry at me. I'm sorry. I should be strong. I can't stand knowing what he did to you—I just can't, Jack! I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Standing inches away from her, Jack glanced at the Doctor for permission to end it. "I don't want you remembering any of that, Sweetheart."

Tenderly, he kissed her, his arms wrapping around her body as she went slack. Wordlessly, he carried her to the infirmary, laying her gently on the bed. He sat beside her, his warm hand gripping her suddenly cold one. He wanted nothing more than to cross his own timeline and tell himself to take the Master out while he was still Minister of Defense. Truly frightened, he anxiously waited for the Doctor to appear.

The Time Lord didn't show up until ten minutes later, a pensive look on his face. Brusquely, he made Jack move to the side as he examined Melissa with the sonic screwdriver.

Once he was satisfied that she would suffer no lasting effects, he looked wearily at the Captain. "I called UNIT; they should be targeting the Archangel network in the next few minutes. She shouldn't have those dreams again."

Sitting beside her again, Jack possessively held her limp hand. "So? She said the Bad Wolf made her get into the Master's head. It almost killed her, Doc! What else has Rose done to her?"

The Doctor almost told Jack that it hadn't been Rose, but recognized in time that the statement would be a half-truth. Maybe Rose hadn't understood her powers or their consequences, but she had chosen to use them nonetheless.

"I don't know. Hopefully nothing." Seeing his friend's look of anguish, he smiled reassuringly. "Hope's not a bad thing, Jack. A few days ago, hope changed the entire world."

"She deserves more than hope," he replied grudgingly, but he seemed to take some comfort in the Doctor's words. Looking up, he remarked, "I don't want her waking up here."

"Her neural activity's stabilized. As long as you stay with her, I don't see any reason to keep her here."

"Thanks, Doc." Gently, he picked Melissa up and took her to her bed.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Waking up to the sunlight streaming through the window, Melissa was surprised to find Jack still lying next to her. Stretching, she turned to see him gazing worriedly at her.

"Thought you were still asleep." When he didn't say anything, she became somewhat nervous. "What's wrong? Was I snoring too loud for you to sleep last night?"

"Never." He half-smiled, stroking her hair. "How are you feeling?"

She grinned cheerfully, remembering their union the night before. "Happy. I've missed you, Jack. It's good to have you back."

Thanking fate that she no longer remembered, he swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. His demeanor was much too serious for early morning, however, and Melissa turned anxious. "Jack, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." He kissed her as if to prove his point. Then, impulsively, he said, "Come back to Cardiff with me. I've missed you for so long. I don't want to waste anymore time."

Her grin faded. "I thought you made a bargain with that girl. I thought I had to leave."

"You did leave. Now it's time to come back." Not daring to even breathe, he waited for her answer.

"You still—"

"Always," he forcefully interrupted, unwilling to allow her to blame herself for that psycho's actions again.

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. What appeared on her face was a teary smile. "I never wanted to leave in the first place."

Pushing his guilt for sending her away aside, he started unbuttoning her pajama top. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Definitely a yes," she confirmed with a whisper as she impatiently wriggled out of the rest of her clothes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor spent the morning and the early afternoon making repairs to his ship, only vaguely aware that Jack and Melissa were conspicuous by their absence. Around two, they boisterously barged into the TARDIS, insisting that the Doctor take a break for a late lunch. He could see by their cheerful grins that something was up, and the champagne gave him a good idea of what it might be.

"Chocolate dipped strawberries and champagne, now that beats your basic protein cube lunch any day." Making the effort to be cheerful for their sakes, he watched Melissa make a face at the thought of eating a protein cube.

"I'd rather eat a pot of fried jumping glonght pods than a protein cube," she joked merrily, not even aware that she was rubbing her forehead.

"Yes, well," he remarked uneasily as Jack frowned with concern. Deciding a distraction was in order, he jauntily raised his champagne flute. "Captain, Melissa, I can guess at the reason for the afternoon champagne, but perhaps it would be more polite to let you tell me. Don't want to be rude anymore than necessary, you know."

They both grinned sheepishly at that, Jack telling the Doctor the good news. "Melissa's agreed to move to Cardiff." As an aside, he mentioned to her, "You know, I still have the house we bought."

"I would hope so, it's only been five months, and you were missing for three of those." Bemused, she didn't understand his need to reassure her.

Both men looked a little uncomfortable for a second, but the Doctor quickly averted an awkward pause. "A toast! To two of the bravest humans I know, may your days together be filled with happiness."

As they clinked glasses and drank, Melissa decided she didn't feel very brave. She was scared to tell Susan the happy news, lest her daughter regard it as anything but a joyous occasion. Distracted, she barely heard Jack's subsequent toast.

"May this year be much happier than the last. Some things are best forgotten."

The two men gravely drank to the sentiment, both somberly remembering the year that never was. The Doctor suddenly became melancholy. "To those we have lost, may they live well in our memories."

Surprised at how somber the celebration had turned, Melissa nevertheless added her own solemn toast in a fit of homesick nostalgia. "To the fallen of Arcadia, and to those who sacrificed all for the sake of the rest. May Time grant them rest eternal."

The stem of the champagne flute snapped in the Doctor's fingers. "Cake and ice cream!" he loudly exclaimed, surprising both his friends with his bizarre change of topic. "Can't celebrate without cake and ice cream. Your children would never forgive you, Melissa. Why don't you just pop over to the store and pick up a cake and some ice cream. I suppose we'll have to do without cream cheese frosting, but maybe you could pick out a chocolate cake. Nothing wrong with chocolate, after all."

As he continued to speak at a manic rate about chocolate, cakes and food in general, he managed to usher her out of the TARDIS, place her purse and car keys in her hand, escorting her out the front door. Without really understanding what had happened, Melissa found herself driving to Whole Foods to look for a chocolate cake.

Watching his friend for signs that he had finally snapped, Jack followed the Doctor into Melissa's bedroom. When the Time Lord began to systematically open dresser drawers and rummage through her things, he decided it was time to speak, although he thought he knew exactly what the Doctor was doing. "You going to tell me what you're doing, Doc, or do I have to guess?"

Not finding what he was looking for in the dresser, the Time Lord quickly entered the bathroom, hastily opening and shutting drawers and cabinets even as he impatiently answered his friend. "What does it look like I'm doing, Captain? I've been so incredibly thick! I've come up with several theories to explain what happens to her, and all along I ignored the most obvious."

Finding nothing in the bathroom, he stalked into the bedroom, ready to take it apart, but Jack put his hand on the Doctor's arm. "Just because you want something to be, doesn't make it so."

"No, it doesn't," he answered irately, "but it doesn't make it untrue, either." Picking up the mattress, he looked under the bed before pulling up the pillows to the chairs, and then getting on his stomach to peer underneath the dresser.

Hopping up, he eyed his friend suspiciously. "Why aren't you stopping me? You should be telling me that I'm deluded, but you're not. You should be throwing my own words back at me to stop me from going through your wife's private things. You should be reminding me that I decided her condition was a result of a failed experiment. More to the point, you should be mentioning that she's not even from this universe, but you're just standing there with the most peculiar look on you face, Captain. Almost as if you're afraid I'm right. Why is that?"

"Because of this." Reluctantly, Jack pulled the piece of Arcadian amber out of his pocket and placed it on the dresser. "A Verran soothsayer gave this to her when she was in Cardiff. She's the one who warned me Melissa would die if she stayed. I think she must have known the Master would be looking for her."

Picking up the pink amber, the Doctor handled it almost reverentially. Distractedly, he mentioned, "Verona doesn't have anyone with time sense. There can't be soothsayers there."

Jack didn't reply as the Doctor redoubled his efforts to search Melissa's room. Just as he had pulled all of the drawers out of her desk, Susan walked into the bedroom, looking askance at the two men.

"How was school today, Sue?" Congenially smiling at the teen, Jack hoped that she wouldn't question what the Doctor was doing. He was wrong, of course.

"Why are you letting him take apart Mama's room, Jack?"

"Susan!" The Doctor's stare was so intense and his expression so manic that she took an involuntary step backwards. "I'm looking for something of your mother's. Something important. Something's she would have had since you could remember, although she might not notice it. It's a fob watch, Susan. Do you know where it is?"

Her throat went dry when he mentioned a watch. "What's a fob watch?"

"It's a pocket watch, Sue," Jack answered without really looking at her. "The Doctor's looking for a pocket watch that might belong to your mother."

"Is it important?" she asked with a quaver.

As the Time Lord returned the drawers to the desk, he looked at her shrewdly. "It's vitally important, and I can tell by the expression on your face that you've seen it, haven't you?"

Backed into a corner, she gave a half-truth. "Mama's never owned a pocket watch. But if she did, it would still be at home. We came here with the clothes on our back and not much else, if you remember."

Crestfallen, the Doctor nodded. Admitting defeat, he morosely shoved his hands in his pockets, silently walking out of the room, leaving Jack to finish the clean up.

Feeling extremely guilty, Susan asked, "Why's he so upset? What's so special about a watch, anyway?"

Gathering up blank sheets of stationery from the floor, Jack sighed. "This particular watch would have meant your mother's actually a Time Lord hiding as a human. Don't worry about it, Sue."

But she worried about it so much she thought she might be sick. "You mean, she wouldn't be Mom anymore?"

"It's complicated," he allowed, thinking of what Martha had told him of his friend's time as a human and what he had witnessed of Professor Yana. "She might have been much the same, or completely different. I guess we should be glad that we don't have to find out."

"What would make the Doctor think something like that?" she asked nervously, wondering if the Time Lord knew something that would eventually lead him to the watch.

Jack answered readily, thinking her continued questions were nothing more than idle curiosity. "He thought that would explain your mom's migraines."

"Oh." She didn't know what to do. On the one hand, she wanted her mother to be healthy. Her headaches were scary and she had almost died in Cardiff because of one. But, she wanted her mother, not some strange alien with her mother's face.

Most of all, she didn't want anything to change. She had had enough of that already, going to seven different schools, having her dad die, ending up here, her mom marrying Jack, the aliens at the school, going to Cardiff, her mom almost dying, leaving Cardiff. And, she had finally gone all the way with Jose Ramirez, and definitely didn't want anything to mess that up. She had a strange feeling that her mother turning out to be an alien just might mess that up spectacularly.

One thing was certain. She definitely couldn't tell Matthew. He'd think having a Time Lord as a mom was the ultimate in cool. He'd probably want to go off in the TARDIS with them. Oh, God, would the Doctor take her mom away if he found out? That would definitely mess up her plans for the summer.

"Sue?" Jack had been watching the teen for several seconds, hating that she had been troubled by the Doctor's search.

Warily, she answered, "Yeah, Jack?"

"I'm sorry we've upset you. The Doctor's the only Time Lord left. I think he just wanted someone who could understand what that's like. It doesn't matter since there's no watch. Just forget about it. Your mom's as human as they come, even with those migraines. In fact, it might be best if you didn't mention it to her or Matt at all. I'd hate to upset either one of them."

"Sure," she answered weakly as she walked out of the room. But she knew even as she said it that forgetting was completely impossible.

xxxxxxxxxx

When Jack and Melissa announced their good news to Matthew and Susan that night, the kids' reactions couldn't have been more different.

Matthew was more than happy to return to Cardiff. He had missed Jack. It was tough being the only man in the house, especially when he had questions that would be more than embarrassing to ask his mother. Captain Harkness never laughed at him when he asked questions. In fact, he calmly gave his frank and sensible opinions about sex and a whole range of other issues to the teen without so much as a judgmental raised eyebrow. Besides, ever since the Parflicans, Matthew had come to look at Jack as much more than his mom's boyfriend; he truly saw him as a second father.

Susan, however, turned into a shrieking harpy. She had no intention of returning to Wales, and with her mother and brother in Colorado, decided she had the tactical advantage. She yelled; she screamed; she tried to be condescending, and she made her mother's life miserable. Things were not going to change; she would make certain of that—she had already made certain of that by lying to the Doctor. Besides, if they moved, Jack or the Doctor might find the watch, and she couldn't risk that. In the end, she got her way, although the confrontation was vicious and spectacular.

The Doctor watched his friends bid each other goodbye, wishing Susan had put her mother's welfare above her own. Not that he had expected it, really. Susan was a teenager with a boyfriend and looking forward to her last year of high school. Human teenagers lacked so much perspective that it was a wonder they grew up at all. There would be so many more opportunities for the young woman, but it was impossible to make her see that right now.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he patiently watched Jack hug Melissa as if he would never see her again. Oh, Jack had promised to visit, and Melissa had promised to move to Cardiff as soon as the twins had graduated from high school, but the Captain was suffering in ways she no longer remembered. He needed someone now, not in a year's time, no matter what he had said about not letting the year affect his life. And Melissa needed him; she was healing, but left alone she had a tendency to blame herself for the actions of others.

He watched as an outsider might as Matthew hugged Jack, the youth trying to hide his disappointment. Yes, the boy was brash and definitely cheeky and rude at times, but for all that, he had a good heart. He needed a father, too; the Doctor could see how easily Matthew might be led down the wrong path without a steadying male influence. He craved acceptance, and the Time Lord hoped he wouldn't seek it in the wrong place.

Susan wasn't present. It was enough for her that she had gotten her way. She definitely didn't want to see them leave; it might ignite enough guilt to make her do something stupid. Saying she had a project to finish, she left early that morning for the library, intending to spend most of the day at Jose's house.

Leaning against the TARDIS, the Doctor tried to shake his gloomy thoughts, but they would not leave him. He could feel a stirring in the air, as if his friend's timelines were snapping into a new shape, but he dared not look. He had experienced so much death and heartache in the last year that he didn't think he could bear seeing the possibility of more. The only reason he had stayed sane was Jack; he owed the immortal more than he could ever repay. Maybe he would offer his friend a ride until Melissa was ready to join him. It was the least he could do.


	23. Christmas Present

Author's Notes - Just a little continuity issue for the truly picky. I placed the Sound of Drums and Last of the Time Lords in May, which, as every American knows, had to have taken place between November and January if Winters was truly the president elect. Since this eventually goes AU, I hope it didn't bother you too much. This chapter starts seven months later, during Susan and Matthew's senior year, and before Gray finds Jack.

Thanks to MaryMathesen for the review. And, yes, I promise, the fob watch gets opened (twice!) but not for another three or four chapters. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Jack hated the snow. No, that wasn't quite true, he amended. He hated the cold; even after so many years of living in Britain, he was at heart a desert creature. The snow was fine; it was good for sledding and skiing and building snowmen with Matthew and throwing snowballs at Melissa until, laughing, she begged him to stop with promises of hot chocolate and warm fires. He just wished it didn't have to be so damn cold to enjoy it.<p>

"That's the last of the wood," he announced as he put four logs by the hearth. Peeling off his heavy layers, he put his wet coat on top of the warm dryer and gratefully accepted a mug of hot chocolate from his wife.

"Tommy's supposed to deliver a truckload this afternoon. He's moving next month and has two cords at his house he said I could have. I'm surprised I'm out already, though. It was a cold fall." Smiling at him, she added, "Hope you don't mind a white Christmas. They're predicting a blizzard for Christmas Eve in addition to what we already have."

"As long as I have you to warm me up, I'll be fine." His eyes sparkled, and impishly, he pushed up her sweater to put his freezing hands on her back.

"Jack!" She shrieked, but ruined the effect by ending with a giggle. "You're so bad."

"You could punish me," he suggested huskily.

"Jack Harkness, if you think—"

She trailed off, feeling her body warm with desire. There was just something about those intense blue eyes of his. She wasn't quite sure what, a promise, a plea perhaps, but all teasing was gone.

Quickly, she went over the day's schedule even as she was taking the mug out of his hand and straddling his lap. It was the kids' last day of school before the holidays, but they were both taking exams and not due back until the afternoon. Tommy had a farewell luncheon at Cheyenne Mountain, so he couldn't possibly get to the house this morning. Since it was only nine, they still had several hours to enjoy each other's company.

Staring into his beautiful blue eyes, she slowly pulled off her sweater. Eyes widening with the possibilities, she throatily suggested, "I think you need a hand warmer."

"I think we should move this into the bedroom."

Agreeing enthusiastically, she raced him down the hall, both leaving a trail of clothes. It had been six long months of separation, and it didn't take long for their passion to reignite. Joined together, they were both stunned when the door to the bedroom suddenly opened.

"**That is the most DISGUSTING thing I've ever seen**!"

Reactiving instinctively, they immediately broke apart at the sound of Susan's outraged voice. Jack put his body in front of Melissa's, as if for protection. She grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around them both.

"What the hell are you doing here, Susan Anne Morgan!" Infuriated, she instantly decided she didn't want to hear it. "Never mind. Get out, now. If you know what's good for you, you'll wait for me in your room." When her daughter simply glared at her, she raised her voice another ten decibels. "Out!"

The teen whirled around dramatically, stalking off and slamming the door shut behind her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the time she had showered, dressed and calmed down enough that she no longer wanted to hit her daughter, Melissa found Susan's room empty. Her rage came back with a vengeance. She had tried to be fair; at least, Jack had tried to make her see the situation from Susan's perspective, but it was difficult. She definitely remembered Jack closing the door behind him as they ran to the bedroom. And, both kids knew not to open a closed door unannounced; Mark had taught them that lesson early. To top it off, her daughter was nowhere to be found, blatantly defying her order.

Disgruntled, she retreated to the kitchen to fix lunch. "She's not there," she told him unnecessarily as she took her frustrations out on the sandwich fixings.

"She'll be back when she calms down," he reassured her, feeling slightly out of his depth.

"I don't care." She bristled, hot, angry tears unexpectedly threatening to spill down her cheeks.

He contradicted her quietly, taking a butter knife out of her shaking hand and holding her close. "Yes, you do."

Unable to hold back the tears, she cried against his chest. "Why does everything have to be so hard? I gave in; she's here for her senior year, and then she's leaving for college anyway. Why can't she let me be happy at Christmas? When did we stop being a family? Why does she hate me so much?"

Not having any easy answers, Jack simply held her. He didn't take Susan's intrusion as personally as her mother did, but the girl had interrupted an incredibly precious moment, something he feared would be impossible to recapture. Emotionally drained, he wished he had thought to lock the door, but neither one of them had expected Susan to return by mid morning.

Wiping her eyes, Melissa attempted to blot Jack's shirt with a napkin, but it had little effect. For some reason, her attempt made him laugh; the whole situation was entirely too ridiculous. She stared at him in consternation for a moment, and then abruptly, she started to laugh as well.

Chuckling, she pointed her finger at him. "The look on your face! It was like a fat Slitheen had popped out of some skinny skin suit and pointed an atomic blaster at you. You were frozen between trying to duck and cover and protecting my honor!" Remembering his earlier shock made her collapse into giggles.

"I believe you were the one saying 'yes, Jack, please, Jack'," he reminded her, raising his voice a few octaves in an attempt to imitate hers. I'm sure your daughter's going to be hearing that in her nightmares for quite a while."

Grinning, Melissa shot back, "She deserves it." Finally finding some perspective, she added dryly, "I guess seeing your mother have sex is punishment enough."

"Hot, loud sex," Jack added helpfully, a wicked smirk on his face.

"Hot, loud, interrupted sex," she added regretfully. "Not that I didn't enjoy it, but—"

She became tongue-tied, trying to find the right words. "It felt . . . . different, like . . . like I couldn't tell where I ended and you began, and I—"

"Yeah," he acknowledged when she couldn't finish, his voice heavy with emotion. "Me too. I don't have a description for it either."

Blinking, she studied his face for a few moments. "Huh, the great Jack Harkness, Casanova of the fifty-first century, stumped for a description of sex. It's a day for the record books."

His smile dazzled her. "Well, we could try to reproduce the effects, and maybe I'd be more articulate afterwards."

"All in the interest of expanding your vocabulary," she replied coyly.

"Of course," he assured her, failing utterly to look the least bit serious.

"With the door locked," she added fervently

"That goes without saying," he responded, completely serious this time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack sat on the sofa in the den attempting to read the latest Stephen King novel, but his thoughts kept wandering. Finally, he gave up, staring at the red glowing remnants of the logs he had put in the fireplace a few hours ago. The house was quiet; Melissa had finally tired of waiting and reluctantly gone to bed at one, and Matthew had left on a four day ski trip with a friend and his family. However, if Susan didn't come home in forty-five minutes, he was going to call Tosh and have her track her cell.

Bored, he stretched out on the sofa and wondered what Ianto was doing back home. He briefly thought of calling, but thought better of it. What would he say? Hey, Yan, having a great time at my wife's, but I wanted to see if you missed me? Because he definitely wasn't going to admit out loud to missing the Welshman, even if he did.

Six months from now, he would have one hell of an awkward situation on his hands. Yes, Melissa had previously said she didn't mind his relationship to Ianto, but she had also said be discreet, and there was nothing discreet about what he and the archivist were up to. Jack wasn't even sure he was willing to be discreet any more.

And he had confessed many things to his lover, but he had never shared the true nature of his relationship with Melissa. For all the archivist knew, she was just an old flame who had caught his eye at some point. Jack decided to ignore the future pitfalls for the moment. He was used to living in the present, and had learned that the future had a tendency to change. It was best not to worry about it too much ahead of time.

Susan's quiet entry cut his musings short. Rising to give her a stern lecture about scaring her mother to death, he immediately changed his mind when he saw the look of absolute despair and misery on her face. Instead, he held out his arms in invitation.

Hesitating only a moment, she ran to him, letting him give her a comforting hug.

"Are you alright?"

"No," she stammered, sitting on the sofa and scrunching herself into a tight ball.

She reeked of booze and sex, and there was a faint, cloying whiff of marijuana in her hair. As she cried softly to herself, he was instantly alarmed.

Patting her shoulder, he asked softly, "Honey, did someone make you do something you didn't want to?"

His kindness only made her cry harder. "No, I did all the stupid stuff all on my own," she wailed despondently.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Sitting up, she put some distance between them, but after a moment, she began to talk. "I went to Brianna's house."

She shrugged a little, perhaps gathering her courage, and then she continued. "We went shopping. I mean, it's the last day of finals, and Mrs. Hartline excused everyone with an A from the English exam, so I came home first. I thought we'd make gingerbread houses like we always do, but I walked in and saw the clothes, and I got angry, and decided to tell Mom off, so I walked into the bedroom, but I wasn't thinking and I didn't mean to see, and then she was yelling and I just needed to get out. I thought about coming home around dinnertime, but I didn't want her yelling at me again."

"What did you do for dinner?" His tone was neutral enough that she felt comfortable talking to him, even if she wouldn't look at him.

"We went back to Brianna's house. Her mom's on a cruise, so we had the house to ourselves. I thought we'd get some pizza and maybe watch a movie, but she opened her mom's liquor cabinet and we started drinking. I mean, I've had beer and wine before, but Mrs. Stevenson has all this other stuff, like crème de menthe and crème do cocoa and schnapps, and we just started tasting them all. We both got buzzed pretty quick."

Taking a deep breath, she confessed, "That's when Brianna mentioned the party."

"Oh?"

She swallowed and stared at the fireplace. "Yeah, this guy on the football team had invited her to a party to celebrate the end of finals." She paused a moment, looking like she might be sick, but she finally continued in a quiet, ashamed voice. "It was one of those parties where you go to . . . you know, hook up. I usually stay far away from those things, but it seemed like a good idea at the time; so we went. It was crowded. There were like forty kids there and I had a lot of vodka and Mitchell Simpson dared me to take a few drags of weed, and then I felt really weird and when a couple of the guys asked me to have sex with them, I thought 'why not'? "

No wonder she was upset. He doubted she had ever been exposed to the orgy-like atmosphere of a party like that before tonight. And the combination of drugs and alcohol would have lowered her inhibitions to the extent that she wouldn't have given it a second thought until it was much too late. Susan was too much of a thinker to chalk the night up to experience and learn from her mistakes. She was much more likely to dwell on her decision until it ate away at her insides. He really hoped that she would confide in her mother, but he was more concerned at the moment with the possible aftereffects of her evening.

Hating to embarrass her, he needed to make sure she was okay. "Susan, was tonight the first time you've had sex?"

Abruptly, she looked up at him, startled at the question, and then dropped her gaze. "No," she mumbled, "When Jose and I were going together we did it a couple of times."

"So, you used protection tonight?" She had obviously been very drunk and possibly stoned; he hoped she had used protection, or she could be in for quite a shock.

"I'm on the pill," she swiftly replied, then begged, "Don't tell Mom, she doesn't know."

Jack tried not to grit his teeth. He could have cared less about her secret. "Did you use condoms tonight, honey? Sexually transmitted diseases aren't all that fun to have in this time period."

She looked at him in confusion. "They were just kids from school."

Then he really had to grit his teeth. "Do you know how many kids you had sex with?"

That question brought about another round of tears, but she managed to answer. "Eight, but all but two of them were blow jobs."

Hating to shatter her illusions, but extremely concerned about her welfare, he said as gently as he could, "You can get infections from oral sex."

"Oh, God," she moaned, starting to understand just how stupid she'd been.

Jack patted her arm. "It's going to be okay, I promise. We'll tell Melissa on Monday that we have some shopping to do, and I'll take you to a clinic where you can get checked out. If you don't want her to know, you don't have to tell her, but we need to make sure you're alright, okay?"

"Okay," she hiccupped as she moved closer and cried into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry; I'm so stupid," she cried over and over again as he held her.

"It's alright," he soothed as he patted her shoulder. "You're going to be okay, Sue."

Eventually, she quieted, and he tilted her head up so he could look into her eyes. Her pupils were slightly dilated, but not as badly as he had feared.

"How much did you have to drink?"

"A lot," she answered morosely, wiping the tears off her face. "I was sick all over Brianna's car twice when we left."

He was relieved that she had gotten some of the alcohol out of her system, and now was not the time to lecture about the dangers of drunk driving. From the way she spoke, she seemed pretty coherent, which was a good sign. Still, he worried. "Do you still feel weird?"

"No, just stupid and kinda sick to my stomach. Not gonna make that mistake again."

"Okay. Why don't you take a shower. When you're finished, bring me your clothes and I'll put them in the wash. Look, Sue, I certainly don't mind helping you out; believe me, I've done a lot of things I've felt bad about afterwards in my time, but I really think you should tell your mother what happened. She won't yell at you; I promise."

"Maybe," she shrugged noncommittally. After a few minutes of not moving, she asked with much trepidation, "Do you think I'm a horrible person?"

"Of course, not, Sue. Everyone does things they regret."

"I've been very selfish," she confessed guiltily, thinking about the pocket watch in her brother's backpack.

"You're eighteen, kiddo, of course you're selfish. Everyone is at that age. Even your mom understands that." He didn't want her feeling so mortified by one bad night. She needed to see that it wasn't the end of her world.

"Are you mad that I made Mom stay?"

He was surprised by the weight of emotion in her voice as much as the change of topic. "I would have preferred it if you had all moved to Cardiff, but I'm used to waiting by now. You'll visit during university breaks, won't you?"

She didn't answer him. Instead, she looked at him uncertainly. "Do you think Mom will always love us?"

Somewhat taken aback by the question, Jack hugged her tightly. "Your mother loves you more than you could imagine. I don't think you ever have to worry about that, no matter what you tell her."

She thought about that for a few moments before seemingly changing the topic. "Will you come to graduation?"

Not sure why she was asking just then, he answered lightly, "Only if I'm invited, why?"

"You're definitely invited," she responded seriously. "You and the Doctor. I have something for Mom I want to give her at graduation and I think you should be there too."

"Tell you what, kiddo. I'll make a deal with you. I promise to be at graduation if you promise to talk to Melissa about this. That's what moms are for, you know."

"Deal, Jack. I'll talk to Mom." Sitting thoughtfully on the sofa for a few more minutes, she told him shyly, "Matt's right, you know. If Mom had to pick somebody to replace Dad, she did a really good job picking you."

Flabbergasted, he didn't know how to answer that one. Instead, he gave her another hug, and then let her get a shower. He had a feeling it was going to be a very long weekend.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

That weekend seemed to stretch into eternity, and Jack was very glad Matthew was off skiing with friends. When Susan finally shared her experience with Melissa, her mother didn't yell once. However, the tension in the house was palpable as both mother and daughter worried about the upcoming trip to the doctor on Monday. Luckily, it looked like there would no lasting harm from Susan's escapade, and by the time Matthew arrived home on the morning of Christmas Eve, both Susan and Melissa had gained some perspective and were eager to put the incident behind them.

The kids had risen ridiculously early on Christmas Day; the better to enjoy their presents, they assured a bleary-eyed Jack Harkness. At least Melissa had thought to set the timer on the coffee maker back a few hours the night before. He was sipping hot caffeine as Susan and Matthew showed off the presents that Santa had left for them.

He had to laugh at Melissa's rational. She had confessed the night before that she continued to display the kids' presents underneath the tree simply because she couldn't stand the thought of doing all that wrapping. The teens liked it as well because they didn't have to wait politely to see what she had given them.

There weren't all that many wrapped presents under the tree. There was no extended family to send gifts from far away, although Sarah Jane had sent them each a little something from London. Susan and Matthew had combined their money to buy their mother a new sweater, so there was a bulky, wrapped shirt box on top of the tree skirt. There were several interesting looking packages for Jack, all from Melissa and the kids. Melissa, Susan and Matthew were each receiving two presents from him, which had been ornately wrapped to better hide their shape.

It didn't take long for all of them to open their presents. Jack was gratified that everyone seemed pleased with his choices. Matthew was overjoyed with his certificate for scuba lessons and a signed first edition copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Susan couldn't believe that she was holding an actual Picasso in her hands, and the vintage Conway Stewart fountain pen made her eager to try her hand at pen and ink drawing. Melissa smiled fondly at her gift, a signed animation cel from _Sleeping Beauty_, appreciating his joke very much. It was the beautiful diamond encrusted emerald ring that made her cheeks bright and her eyes shiny, however. As soon as she opened it, Jack was kneeling in front of her, taking the box out of her hands.

"I never did buy you an engagement ring or a wedding ring for that matter, so I wanted to give you something for our anniversary. I had the tickets and everything, just ask Matt, but some things came up, and Owen got shot and then things got really complicated. I hope we can be together next year."

Making a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, she let him place it on her right hand. It fit perfectly. "It's beautiful," she breathed softly, giving him a joyful hug and kiss. "But I don't have anything like that for you."

Grinning, he whispered in her ear, making her chuckle, her ears reddening in embarrassment. Then, Susan eagerly asked to see the ring, and Matthew gave Jack a high-five.

"Way to go, Dad!"

Jack's presents from Melissa and the kids weren't nearly as expensive, but they had put just as much thought into them. Susan gave him a charcoal drawing of her mother that she had finished the day before. Originally, she had just bought a box of cheap chocolate covered cherries, but her opinions had drastically changed, and she wanted to give him something that would last.

Matthew, short on cash after contributing to his mother's gift, had burned a CD of big band music for him. The teen remembered how much Rose used to tease him about Glenn Miller and Big Ben. Jack seemed genuinely touched by his thoughtfulness.

Suddenly nervous that her gift wouldn't measure up, Melissa twisted her robe as he slowly untied the ribbon, deliberately drawing out the anticipation. Inside the rectangular box were a dozen antique linen handkerchiefs, each embroidered with the initials JH.

Laughing, he gave her an ear to ear grin. "Fantastic!

xxxxxxxxxx

Later that morning, after a Wii Sports tournament, Melissa put the breakfast casserole in the oven. Since they had never had big family gatherings during the holidays, the Morgan family generally had a large brunch on Christmas day, and then ham sandwiches for supper.

Trying to keep ahead of the dirty dishes, she and Jack were washing a few pots and pans when she grabbed her head in agony. "Something's wrong," she gasped before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed on the floor, the pot she had been drying clanging percussively to the ground.

Desperately wishing for the sonic screwdriver, Jack frantically checked her vital signs as Susan and Matthew careened into the kitchen, panic written on both their faces. "How many headaches has she had lately?" he barked as he tried to find her pulse.

"None. She hasn't had a migraine since that time we had to take her to the Emergency Room." Matthew stayed out of Jack's way, but remained close enough to provide assistance if needed. Susan, however, had run out of the room.

"Come on, Sweetheart, breathe," Jack encouraged as he counted her respirations. Her breathing was faint and shallow, and her skin was quickly becoming chilled. She had collapsed so quickly and without the usual warning signs that he was very worried that she might have suffered an aneurysm.

Deciding it would be best not to move her, he sent Matthew to the linen closet to fetch several blankets. When she slowly began to improve after a few minutes, he sat beside her, gently holding her hand.

The shrill ring of his mobile startled him enough that he stood reflexively in a defensive stance in front of her. When he realized what he had done, he glanced apologetically at Matthew. Brusquely answering the phone, he listened for a few seconds before putting his hand over the mouthpiece and ordering the boy to turn on AMN in the den.

"There's this spaceship that looks just like the Titanic that's about to crash into Buckingham Palace!"

Matthew's excited commentary brought Jack running. Taking one good look at the ship, he muttered, "Shit," and then ran back into the kitchen, still talking urgently on the phone.

He remained on the line, understanding better than anyone that there was little he could do but hope. The ship looked like it had a fusion storm drive. If it crashed and the engines were offline, the resulting nuclear reaction would burn the entire planet. And it was far too late to try to shoot it down.

In just seconds, he heard a cheerful whoop from Matthew, confirmed almost instantly by Tosh on the phone. "It's pulled up in the nick of time!"

Running back into the den, he watched the spaceship speed away. Walking into the kitchen, he again spoke into his mobile. "If it's off radar, we can't do anything more, Tosh. I'm sure UNIT will type up some sort of report, and I'll be happy to read it when I get back. Tell Gwen and Ianto that they don't have to come in just for this. Whatever threat there was, it's gone now." "Yeah, Merry Christmas to you, too, Tosh. Look, I'm in the middle of something right now. I've got to go."

Melissa began to stir, still clutching her head. "Jack? My head is killing me."

Helping her to the sofa, he watched as the tense muscles in her face slowly relaxed. "Better?" he asked, noting that color was returning to her cheeks.

"It is," she agreed, mystified. "I don't understand. The pain's just gone."

"Migraine?" His fingers were over her wrist, checking her pulse, but it was slow and steady.

"Must have been. The last thing I remember is being in the kitchen doing the dishes. Did I lose anything?"

"No," he assured her as he gestured for the teens not to make a big fuss.

"You missed the Titanic almost killing the Queen!" Matthew was still excited about the near miss and was flipping through the news channels hoping to learn more.

"I what? Jack?"

"It's okay," he promised, showing her the repeat news coverage. "It was a space ship that only looked like the Titanic, and in a few hours, I'm sure they'll have some plausible explanation to cover it up."

The kitchen timer interrupted the conversation. Susan helped Melissa to set the table, while Matthew helped Jack whip up some eggnog. By the time the meal was finished, they were all cheerfully stuffed, content to watch the raging blizzard outside from the warmth of the den.


	24. Holiday Inn

Author's Notes - Thanks again to Mary Matthesen for another kind review. Yes, the plot is thickening. Hopefully, it doesn't turn into a gloppy mess! Enjoy.

* * *

><p>Jack pressed a kiss onto Melissa's cheek as she snuggled up against him on the sofa. Susan and Matthew had finally gone to bed after insisting at nine that they watch <em>It's a Wonderful Life<em>. He had forgotten just how long that movie could be. It wasn't his favorite, either; it reminded him too much of the Time Agency. No, _Holiday Inn_ was more his style.

When Melissa finished her hot chocolate, she handed her mug to Jack so he could put it on the table next to them. "Penny for your thoughts."

"I was thinking how much I don't like _It's a Wonderful Life_," he answered honestly. "Too many experiences with messed up timelines to really appreciate it."

"It's always been one of my favorites. The kids bought it for me our first Christmas here and I was so relieved that it was the same as the one at home. I guess I like the idea that ordinary people matter. When I feel like my life has no purpose, I always think of that movie. I think, maybe my life has a purpose, but I just don't get to see what it is."

Her voice had grown wistful, almost melancholy as she talked, and he didn't like that at all. "You, Melissa Morgan Harkness, are far from ordinary."

"You wouldn't say that if you saw me cleaning the bathrooms and doing laundry and going to the grocery store and chauffeuring Susan and Matthew to band competitions and recitals and swim meets and art expositions." She grinned as she said it, though, and he was content that he had pulled her out of whatever funk she had been about to slip into.

"I've seen you do all of that. Used to go grocery shopping with you, too, remember? Although, I appreciate the fact you never asked me to do the wash. It took me years to figure out that the darks and whites had to be separated."

She smiled at his joke, and he traced his finger along her jaw, his expression turning tender and serious. When her eyes met his, he said quietly, "Just because your life's domestic doesn't mean it's ordinary, Melissa. You've touched more people's lives than you could possibly know, and saved at least one."

Her throat suddenly tight, she smiled tenderly at him. He almost never said the words, but she could feel the deep emotion behind his assurances. "I love you, too, Jack."

There was only one answer to that; he kissed her properly this time, his fingers threading through her auburn hair, his body pressing close against her.

She had just managed to unbutton his shirt when there was a knock at the door. They sprang apart, both anxious to see who would be out in the blizzard so late at night, both knowing that it could be only one person. Jack protectively stood in front of her, however, in case they were wrong. Ignoring him, she quickly yanked open the door.

"Doctor?"

He was grinning, but something was definitely wrong with his smile; it looked more like a grimace, and the tuxedo he was wearing was torn and disheveled. "Melissa, Merry Christmas! Did you know that's real snow falling outside?"

He swayed slightly as he spoke, and Jack caught him before he could fall, supporting him as he led him to the recliner. "I'm fine, Captain," he grumbled, but they both could see the devastation in his eyes and the paleness of his face.

Wordlessly, she went into the kitchen, fixing him a cup of tea and a ham sandwich. As an afterthought, she placed several pieces of her homemade chocolate fudge on the plate with the sandwich.

"I didn't mean to come here." The Doctor apologized to Jack as soon as Melissa was in the kitchen. "Knew I'd be interrupting something," he added with a pathetic attempt at a grin as he glanced at Jack's unbuttoned shirt. "The TARDIS had other ideas, apparently."

"She's smarter than you give her credit for, Doc." Jack silently thanked the TARDIS for caring more about the Doctor than his friend sometimes cared about himself. "You look like something the cat dragged in."

"Thanks," he answered sarcastically, wishing he had the strength to stand and run out the door. He wanted to be alone, not with two people who could read him better than almost anyone else. The only worse place he could have ended up would have been Sarah Jane's house. Lapsing into silence, he briefly closed his eyes. He was incredibly tired; he hadn't really slept since the Valiant, taking small naps here and there as he finished the repairs to his ship.

Jack studied the Doctor critically as he half dozed. The tuxedo looked good on him, even with the tear on the left sleeve. The freckles on his nose were much too noticeable, however, and he wondered how close the Doctor was to unconsciousness rather than sleep. Something terrible had happened; he had seen that much in the Time Lord's eyes. Knowing how often his friend was in the thick of things when the Earth was threatened, he guessed it had something to do with that ship he had seen on the news, but didn't dare ask the question just yet.

When Melissa returned with the food and tea, Jack lightly touched his right arm. Startling, the Doctor blinked a few times before remembering where he was.

"Come on, Doc, once you get some tea in you and eat a little something, we'll fix up that arm of yours."

He almost refused just on sheer stubbornness, but he was too tired to put up much of a fight, especially when he noticed the concern on Melissa's face. He could be irritable with Jack; he wouldn't take it personally, but she would find a way to blame herself. With a sigh, he took the plate and began to nibble on the fudge.

Five pieces of fudge and one ham sandwich later, even the Doctor would admit to feeling better if asked, but they knew better than to ask such a loaded question. Instead, she began unbuttoning his shirt as soon as he had finished his tea.

"Bit forward, isn't it?"

"What can I say? Jack's a bad influence." She was thankful that he wasn't arguing about not needing any help. Finished with his buttons, she eased him out of the jacket and shirt.

The sight of his arm sent Jack into the kitchen to get a bowl of warm water. It was the mountain lion all over again, except there was only one gash this time, but it was very deep. From the look of the Doctor's formerly white shirt, the cut had also been bleeding for quite a while.

While waiting for Jack to return, Melissa noticed that the top her friend's hair was matted with blood. Gently touching his head, she snatched her hand back when he yelped in pain.

"Oi! That smarts!"

"Sorry, you've got a bump on your head. Are you having any blurred vision, dizziness?"

"Didn't even know it was there until you touched it. I'm sure it's fine." Leaning forward, he rubbed his eyes. He needed to rest; the fatigue of the last few weeks was finally catching up with him.

Returning with the water, Jack saw his friend's back and almost dropped the bowl. There was a large purple bruise there, just where the right kidney would be on a human. It had the faint outline of a boot, and brought back memories that the Captain would had rather forgotten.

As Melissa cleaned the dirt out of the wound, Jack asked as quietly as he could the question he knew the Doctor would not appreciate answering. "How long's it been since the Valiant for you? I noticed that bruise where the UNIT soldier kicked you after everything was over. It hasn't healed yet."

A slight stiffening in his posture was the only indication that the Doctor had even heard Jack's question. Closing his eyes, he didn't answer until his arm was completely bandaged, and when he finally did answer, he looked away from both of them.

"Not that long. Said goodbye to Martha, spent a while doing repairs on the TARDIS in the Vortex, met a past self." As an aside, he quickly added, "That's always interesting, although I really wish I hadn't seen the back of my head." Then he blandly finished by stating, "And then the Titanic crashed into the TARDIS and I was busy for a while."

"How long, exactly, Doctor?" Melissa wasn't going to let him avoid Jack's question, even if she didn't understand exactly what they were talking about.

"About three weeks."

Jack flinched, and the Doctor regretted his honesty immediately. "I'm fine," he tried to reassure him.

"Nice try." Melissa wasn't going to let him get away with it. By the time Jack had finished bandaging his arm, she had returned with a pair of Matthew's pajamas.

"You need some sleep." Maybe in the morning he would be willing to talk about what had happened to him to give him such a nasty cut, a bump on the head and a look of desolation that made her wish that for once he would accept some comfort.

"Maybe I do," he quietly confessed as Jack had to help him stand.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa woke sure that something was wrong. Briefly, she thought of waking Jack, but he looked so peaceful that she decided to wait. Troubled, she slid out of bed and softly walked down the hall, looking for the source of her unease, but the house was dark and quiet. She checked on both of her children; then, on a hunch, she peeked into the guest bedroom to check on the Doctor. He was muttering in his sleep, weakly thrashing about, and she thought he must be in the grip of a nightmare. Hoping she wouldn't frighten him, she knelt next to his bed and put her hand on his shoulder.

Abruptly, Melissa woke, finding herself outside, but she was definitely not in Colorado Springs. In fact, she decided very quickly that she must be in hell. The landscape around her was scorched; eerie green-blue fires raged in deep pits of earth as the ground pulsed and quaked beneath her. Alone and scared, she walked aimlessly, seeing others trapped in agonies too horrible to comprehend.

Next to her, an old man stood stiffly, his forehead rippling to form heavy eye ridges, his mouth changing its shape until his bottom jaw protruded from the top in a row of razor sharp teeth, his skin thickening and darkening until it was like cured leather. He howled in agony, his eyes inky black and so very dead. When he turned those dead eyes towards her, she ran.

As she quickened her pace, hoping the trail she was now following would lead her away from those unspeakable horrors, she tried not to look at the people around her. Sometimes, though, they would demand her attention. There was a young woman, who had at some time been dressed in a simple orange tunic, kneeling on all fours blocking Melissa's path. As she watched unwillingly, the woman's stomach bulged, growing so rapidly that all the helpless girl could do was shriek as it burst. A hefty infant dropped beneath her; the babe grew at a phenomenal pace until he was so ancient that he crumbled into dust. Stepping quickly around, she was sick as the scene began to repeat itself, the woman and her son trapped forever in a twisted parody of birth and death.

Racing now, she ran ever quicker along the path, hoping to find an exit. She couldn't bear to see any more nightmares, but they clamored for her attention nonetheless. Trees withered; houses and once majestically tall buildings crumbled. The people became things and the things screamed and moaned and gnashed together their sharp teeth. Others, perhaps not so fortunate, suffered and died and suffered again and again. And all the while the strange fires crept ever closer.

She was running blindly now, all rational thought gone. In fact, she would have run right over the precipice, if not for an arm that was thrown out in front of her.

"You should really watch where you're going."

Taking a step back from the massive crack in the earth, Melissa regarded the black clad man thoughtfully. His eyes were haunted, his face etched in grief and a fierce, cold anger. Aside from her, he was the only person she had seen not to be physically affected by whatever was occurring around them. "Have I died and gone to hell?"

He laughed, but there was no mirth in his voice, only a harsh irony. "Not only am I trapped, I seem to be hallucinating. Ah, well, when in Rome."

Affectionately capturing her right hand, he brought it up slowly to his lips, kissing it softly before he released her. "I don't believe in hell, no matter what that Beast may have claimed, or heaven for that matter. You are long gone to rest, nothing more than my memory tormenting me yet again."

He wasn't making any sort of sense, but she suddenly felt uneasy. Whoever he was, she shouldn't be able to see him eye to eye, should she? He didn't look that short, although he wasn't as tall as Jack. Would she ever see Jack again? Where the hell was she?

Running her fingers through her hair as she attempted to think, she was shocked to notice that her hair was much shorter, cropped into a stylish spiky bob; it was also chestnut brown, rather than a rich red. Wishing she had a mirror, she looked down at herself, stunned, but all she could determine was that she wore black boots, pants and shirt just as the man in front of her, and that she was taller and curvier than she should be.

"What's wrong with me?" Now looking for changes, she noticed that even her voice sounded different; it was accented and slightly deeper than she was used to.

"Nothing," the man assured her. "You seem to be a perfect replication of Emma, although I'm surprised my mind is still functioning well enough to be that detailed.

"That's not my name!" She was sure of that, wasn't she? But all of a sudden, she couldn't remember her own name and her head began to throb painfully.

"Of course it's not," he replied as if she had been particularly dim. "But I'm not going to call a mere echo by her true name. That wouldn't be right."

Flummoxed, Melissa searched for something to say to this handsome long-haired stranger as her head continued to pound. The situation was just too bizarre. "If I'm not in hell, then where am I?"

The man regarded her frostily, his eyes growing hard. "As close to hell as one can be without actually finding it. This is Arcadia."

Pain blazed through her mind, sending her to her knees and threatening to make her topple backwards into the abyss. "NO! I can't be here! I won't be! This isn't real!"

The scene rippled, slowly changing to reveal an empty field of red grass. Beyond it stood twin majestic peaks, radiant under a double sun. Still on her knees, Melissa watched in confusion as the man changed as well, growing taller, slimmer, his long hair shortening until it was a messy, spiky mass that she recognized only too well. His eyes were the familiar brown, and so too were his clothes, down to the long coat flapping in the breeze. Too exhausted to even try to understand, she remained on the ground, the pain in her head ever intensifying.

"Well, now, I must congratulate myself on such a brilliant hallucination. I seem to no longer be trapped." The Doctor smiled manically at her, perhaps waiting for her to stand up and agree, but she couldn't manage more than a whimper while squeezing her eyes shut.

Somewhat perplexed, he closed the distance between them. "You are just a hallucination, aren't you, Em?" Tentatively, he placed his hand on her shoulder, pulling it back instantly when he felt her agony.

"Well, hello! I think you just may be real. Not sure who you are or how you got here, but I should thank you. Did you hurt yourself trying to help me? Nasty thing, a Time Lord's psyche."

His voice became ever more cheery and nonthreatening as he spoke. Whoever was in his mind was suffering, and he did not want to hurt it further. "Why don't you show me your true form, eh? Then, maybe I can help you get out of here."

Miserably, she looked up at him, sniffling despondently. "I can't remember. Please, I'm not a hallucination, I promise!" Then, as another wave of pain hit her, she started crying. "My head!"

The Doctor was distracted at that point by recognizable presence in his mindscape. "Jack? How the hell did you get here? This isn't a party!"

"Doc," Jack urgently replied, "your shields are nonexistent at the moment. I wasn't even trying to reach you. But, you've got to help me! Melissa's unconscious. I can't get her to wake up. She's collapsed on top of you."

The Doctor looked warmly at the person who had pulled him from his nightmare. "I might have known." He tried to touch her again, but she flinched away from him.

Standing in front of Jack, he gave curt directions. "Take her out of here, Captain. That's Melissa, although she may be a bit incoherent for a while; she's had a nasty shock.

Knowing better than to waste time asking for explanations, Jack approached the unfamiliar woman and pulled her into his arms. Suddenly, he shared her pain and confusion, but he resolutely began to lead her away. When he faltered, the Doctor gave them both a helpful nudge, and Jack found himself back in the guest bedroom.

Pulling Melissa off the Doctor, he laid her on the floor, hoping she would come to her senses. She didn't. Carefully, he shook her, calling her name, but only managed to get a weak groan in response.

The Doctor suddenly appeared next to him. "Let her rest. She'll wake when she's ready." Knowing he was just a few seconds from unconsciousness himself, he urgently gripped the Captain's arm. "Don't let her or the children touch me. I should go back to the TARDIS, but I don't think—"

He began to tilt, but Jack stood quickly enough to catch him before he hit the ground. Maneuvering the Doctor back to the bed, he sighed. Now he had two people to worry about.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Waking with a pounding headache, Melissa blearily made her way to the bathroom. Taking a good look at herself in the mirror, she shuddered, as if remembering a nightmare. Without thinking, she showered and dressed on autopilot. Feeling slightly more awake, she headed to the kitchen hoping a cup of coffee would help her focus.

Susan was cooking something that smelled a lot like chili, and as soon as Melissa took a good look at her daughter, all of her fears came crashing back. With a strangled sob, she wrapped her child in a tight, protective hug.

"I'm so glad you're back. I've been worried sick. I'm so sorry that I yelled like that. It was just a shock; I promise I'm not mad at you, Sue."

The teen stared at her mother in complete confusion before a look of horror crossed her face. "Jack! JACK!"

Matthew skidded into the kitchen. "Dad's outside cleaning the blood off the porch." Then taking a good look at his mother and sister, he ran to get him.

"Mom, just sit down, okay? Everything's going to be fine." But Susan didn't act like everything was anywhere near fine. She was anxious, jumpy and wouldn't look her mother in the eyes.

Now scared as well as suffering from an awful headache, Melissa sat nervously in the chair, her hands finding a paper napkin that she started to twist. "What's the matter, Sue? Why's Matthew here? Did the Millers' cancel their ski trip? Who's been bleeding?"

She was saved from answering by Jack's appearance. "I was wondering when you would wake up, Sleeping Beauty." He grinned at her, his eyes teasing, but she knew him well enough to see the concern underneath his cheerfulness.

Susan took the opportunity to disappear, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen. Melissa dropped the shredded napkin and started to rub her head, but it wasn't helping. She felt absolutely miserable.

"Jack, could you get me some aspirin? I just want the pain to end."

Alarmed, he gripped her arm. "You're allergic to aspirin, remember?"

She looked up at him, brows furrowed. "I know that," she snapped, irritated. Then, trying to remember exactly what she had said, she asked him, "I said Tylenol, didn't I, Jack?"

He shook his head, not knowing what else to tell her. Turning back to the counter, he fixed her a cup of coffee that had been sitting in the pot most of the afternoon. Bringing it to her, he placed two Tylenol capsules in her hand.

"Better?" She had downed the pills and coffee at an alarming speed. He was surprised she hadn't burnt her mouth.

Getting up to fix a fresh pot, she carefully measured the coffee grounds as she answered. "I feel like I have a hangover, but maybe it's just sinuses. Why was Susan so upset with me? I told her I wasn't angry anymore about her walking in on us. What time did she get home last night, by the way? And why is Matthew back from his ski trip so early?"

He grimaced, glad she was turned away from him. "Sweetheart, why don't you sit down? I need to tell you something."

That was never a good phrase, especially with Jack calling her sweetheart. Suddenly apprehensive, she sat down again and faced him warily. "What is it?"

He put his hand tenderly on hers. "Today's December twenty-sixth, not December nineteenth."

"I missed Christmas?" For some reason, that one fact was more upsetting than anything else. Her eyes started welling with tears.

"You didn't miss it," he promised gently. "You just don't remember it."

"I had a migraine?" This was what she feared most with each episode. She was missing days of memories. What had she done? What had happened during the time she couldn't remember?

Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Not exactly, but the Doctor can explain better than I can as soon as he wakes up."

"The Doctor? Does this have anything to do with that ship that almost crashed? Where is he? What's he doing here?" Her voice grew shriller with each question, but Jack honed in on what she had just said.

"You remember the ship?"

"I . . . ." Concentrating past the pain in her head, she strove to recall. "I remember feeling faint and then Matthew said that the Titanic almost crashed into Buckingham Palace. That was . . . yesterday! Right after we opened presents. I remember the ring, Jack! And it was snowing and Matthew had a fantastic ski trip and Susan- Oh, poor Susan! No wonder she panicked. I've been so worried about her and now she thinks I don't even remember, poor baby. I remember! I remember it all!" Excited, she kissed him enthusiastically, sitting on his lap, sniffling on his shoulder when her emotions became more than she could handle.

Intensely relieved, he wished they could finish what they had started the night before, but they had no privacy at the moment. Instead, he brushed the tears off her cheeks.

"The Doctor's got a concussion. His mind is a little too open right now, and he thought he might have hurt you. You've been out of it since early this morning; we were all getting worried."

"Except for this headache, I'm perfect; I promise. Is he going to be okay?"

"He's unconscious, or asleep; hard to tell with him sometimes. He'll be fine, but he doesn't want you or the kids touching him just now."

"But you can?" She didn't really understand what he was trying to tell her, but she trusted him.

"Not really, although my psychic shielding is better than average. Picked it up at the Time Agency. What happened to you won't happen to me, even if I did end up in his mind."

"Okay." On one level, she wanted to ask him what had happened, but every time she thought about it, her head throbbed. In the end, she decided that she didn't really want to know. Sometimes, it was best to accept some things without asking too many questions.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor didn't wake for two days. Jack postponed his return to Cardiff, knowing it was dangerous for anyone else to be around the Time Lord. The chance of Melissa getting lost in his mind again was simply too great. His stomach twisted every time he thought about her almost losing so much time. He wasn't going to let her put herself at risk again.

When the Doctor did wake, his shielding was still dangerously weak. It would have been foolhardy for him to take off in the TARDIS in such a state, so Jack found himself postponing his trip home once again. Not that he minded all that much. It was obvious his friend needed someone to talk to, even if he wasn't ready to do much talking yet. Not for the first time, he wished he had taken the Doctor up on his offer to travel while waiting for Susan and Matthew to graduate. If he had known beforehand that Martha was not staying with him, he might have given the Time Lord a different answer.

Besides, the TARDIS was still in need of repairs after a year enslaved as a paradox machine. At least he could spend his time doing something useful. Not able to be with them, Melissa worried as she continually cleaned the house with a nervous energy that had driven Susan and Matthew to find every excuse they could to spend time away from her.

"Pass me that spanner, Captain." The Doctor was under the console, attempting to fix one of the secondary circuits, and Jack had been relegated to mechanic's assistant. He had been handing him tools for the last half hour, and even the sexually charged innuendo was losing its appeal.

Bored, Jack passed the tool down to the Doctor. Knowing there was no good time to bring it up, he gathered his courage. "So, Doc, you going to tell me what happened with that ship on Christmas Day?"

"Don't call me Doc," he muttered grumpily. Then, finished with the repairs, he pulled himself up, looking bleakly at the Captain. "It was the Titanic, Jack. I think by the name you could draw your own conclusions."

He leaned casually against the console, not commenting. He knew the Doctor would talk about it if he wanted to talk, and there was no reason to ask anything else if he didn't. Finally, his friend sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Sitting on the jump seat, he looked down at the grating. When he finally did speak, his voice was filled with self-recrimination.

"The asteroids hit the ship and killed almost everyone on board, and what did I do? I made this grand speech and promised to save everyone else. How could I have been so stupid? They all died, one by one, and I couldn't do a thing about it. Well, mostly they all died, Mr. Copper didn't and Midshipman Frame, and that selfish idiot who was more concerned with money than anyone else's life. But everyone else, they died for insurance fraud of all things. That madman onboard was going to destroy the Earth and his ship just to claim the insurance!"

Abruptly, he stood up, giving the grating a hard kick with his trainer. "And do you know the absolute worst of it? I couldn't save the one person who saved me. She died stopping Capricorn and I'd be dead if it wasn't for her. I promised her the stars, Jack. I wanted to show her all of time and space, and she would have loved it, but all I could give her in the end was stardust."

"I'm sorry." Jack looked mournfully at his friend, hating that he had lost yet another person he could have been close to. "What was her name?"

"Astrid. Her name was Astrid."

He fiddled with the controls of his ship for several seconds before abruptly changing the subject and his mood. "So, Captain! New Year's Eve! My head's screwed on well enough now. Think that calls for a celebration, don't you? Where do you think Melissa and her children would like to go? We could see the fireworks in New York, or Hong Kong, or London or Washington, or Celara Six for that matter.

Grinning, Jack thought of the possibilities. "Susan and Matthew are at their school's annual New Year's lock in. I would love to show Melissa the fireworks on Celara Six, wouldn't you? I bet she's never seen pastel colors light up the sky like that, and the shapes, they're incredible. That would be brilliant."

The Doctor looked at Jack, suddenly uncomfortable. "Maybe I should just be off and let you two have some time alone."

"It's a time machine, Doc! We can be gone and back before midnight. Then, we can have some time alone. Come on, impress her; you know you want to."

Jack was gleeful; he loved the idea of taking the TARDIS for a spin, just the three of them, and Celara Six would be the perfect place to take her—peaceful government, no revolts, easygoing population, exceptional alcohol and fireworks that were the talk of four star systems. It would be perfect.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"It's a time machine, Jack. It's not quite as simple as going to the Broadmoor for dinner." She stood in the near the console, hands on her hips. She hated to disappoint either the Doctor or him, but taking the TARDIS out for a spin was more adventure than she thought prudent.

"We can be back five minutes after we leave. I promise. It is a time machine, after all."

The more he thought about it, the more the Doctor wanted her to take a trip with him. Oh, he knew it was a daft idea, but if she liked it, maybe he could convince them to travel with him next year. That team of Jack's could get along without him for a while, couldn't they? And Melissa would love it; he could already tell by the look of longing on her face.

She hesitated, her hands falling to her sides. In that instant, the Doctor knew he could wheedle her into accepting. His voice intense and seductive, he gazed at her earnestly.

"You'd love it, you know. The entire planet's a big street party and then night falls and the light of the triple moons cast a pale orange glow over the southern hemisphere. Everyone settles on the beaches to eat and drink and talk to old friends and make new ones, and the sound of their laughter is said to soothe the very soul. Then, the moons set and the fireworks light up the sky, with their pale blues and vibrant yellows and spring greens. The night is filled with flashes and shapes of impossible creatures and the embers fall towards the ground like drops of starlight.

Jack stared at the Doctor, completely in awe of the Time Lord's performance. And he thought he had some good lines. Crossing his fingers, he watched for her reaction. For once, he wanted to show her something extraordinary; she deserved that and so much more.

Stunned, she looked back and forth from the Doctor to Jack before her face lit up in a happy grin. "You had me at the whole 'I promise to get you back five minutes later ' thing, you know."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa walked hand in hand with both Jack and the Doctor. She was playfully swinging their arms as they looked for a nice spot of beach to lay the blanket the Time Lord had hoisted over his shoulder. The afternoon had been beyond wonderful. The Celerans were friendly and genuinely glad to have travelers sharing their new year's festival. There had been street performers and artwork and handcrafts for sale and lively music, spicy food and a smooth drink that had given her a pleasant glow.

Sitting on the blanket watching the three moons rise over the water, she thought the evening couldn't get much better until Jack began pulling things out of the picnic basket he had picked up in the TARDIS. Onto the blanket went crusty loaves of bread, several varieties of cheeses, apples and dark red grapes, a bottle of wine, a bottle of champagne and a hummingbird cake with cream cheese icing.

They ate and laughed and traded food with the Celerans, and drank the wine. Completely content, Melissa lay upon the blanket, looking at the alien moons. Jack appeared above her, blocking the view. "Penny for your thoughts."

Stretching, she smiled up at him. "I was thinking of pinching myself. This day's been so perfect it must be a dream."

He kissed her, just to prove it was real. Watching the two of them, the Doctor began to edge away to give them some time to themselves, but Melissa noticed and grabbed his hand, pulling him down next to her. Liking the idea, Jack stretched out on her other side.

Still amazed at the moons as they made their rapid journey through the night sky, she asked the question she had been most curious about since coming here. "Does this ever get boring for either of you? New people, new planet, new customs?"

"Why do you think I travel? I could spend ten thousand years in the TARDIS and not see the same thing twice. The universe is amazing." The Doctor stared up at the moons, seeing a different sky in his memories.

"It certainly is," Jack agreed, staring not at the sky but at Melissa. She was breathtakingly beautiful under the setting moonlight, and for once completely relaxed.

They were quiet, each wrapped up in their own thoughts as the last moon dipped below the horizon. For an instant, the beach was thrown into darkness, the starlight no more than twinkling confetti above. Then, with a tremendous boom, the sky was lit with the most amazing fireworks she had ever seen.

In the beginning of the show, the fireworks were much like the ones at home, albeit in vibrant pastels. However, as the smoke above thickened, the fireworks changed into something much more. It began with simple shapes, progressing to impossible creatures, pastel palaces and intricate patterns, all perfectly choreographed to thunderous, percussive music.

They sat on the blanket, watching the display for what seemed like hours, but was in fact forty-two minutes, which the Doctor would smugly inform them somewhat later. She sat there entranced, staring up at the festive sky, while the men beside her watched not the sky, but her, both wanting to capture the look of joy on her face as she experienced a new world. She never noticed their glances, too spellbound by the performance above.

When at last the deafening booms of the fireworks died in the dazzling light of the spectacular finale, Celerans on all side began to boisterously welcome the new year. Exuberant, Melissa wrapped her arms around Jack, kissing him soundly, her face shining with a joyful grin. When the Doctor tried to stand, she immediately let go of her husband, and, kneeling, threw her arms around the Doctor.

She smiled fondly at him, her eyes bright with wonder. "Thank you. This has been perfect. I don't know when I've had a better day."

He sat there, tongue-tied, not sure what she was going to do, but welcoming her touch. Very tactile in his current regeneration, he had spent most of the year aboard the Valiant without touching anyone, and it had hurt him more than he cared to admit. Then he lost Jack to Torchwood and Martha to her family and Astrid to his folly. He didn't realize how much he had missed human contact until today.

She could feel the tenseness in his muscles relax as she kept her arms around him. Not knowing exactly why she did it, she placed her right hand on the back of his neck and tenderly brought her lips to his. Her kiss was not as passionate as it had been with Jack, but neither was it chaste, and when they finally broke apart his eyes were wide with surprise, longing and gratitude.

Grinning, she let him stand, knowing he would run for the hills no matter how much he had enjoyed her simple gift. He was as awkward as she thought he would be, rubbing the back of his neck and running his fingers through his hair and stammering as he managed to inform them that he would be waiting at the TARDIS.

When he disappeared into the crowd, Jack pinned her against the blanket, kissing her until she was breathless. Finally, letting her up for air, he remarked wryly, "Some people have all the luck."

"Jealous?" She beamed smugly at him, knowing exactly the effect her kiss with the Doctor had had on him.

"Intensely," he assured her, his hand brushing against her as he picked up the unopened bottle of champagne. "Looks like he's a good kisser this time."

"He is," she agreed primly. Then, her eyes mischievous, she casually remarked, "Too bad I have a rule against threesomes."

Shocked, Jack stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly open. Did she mean what he thought she meant? That one comment was going to fuel several months of fantasies, which is just what she must have intended. Catching her playfully around the waist, he led her back to the TARDIS.

The Doctor was standing at the console, fiddling with a few switches and looking incredibly lonely until he noticed they were inside. Brightening, he smiled at the both of them. "I believe I promised midnight?"

Theatrically, Melissa sighed. "Now I feel like Cinderella when the clock starts to strike. Back to being the scullery maid."

"We'll save you a glass slipper for next time." Starting to input the coordinates, he glanced up to see anticipation written on her face.

She looked at both of them like a small child who had been promised a trip to Disneyworld. "Do you mean it? Is there going to be a next time?"

The Doctor smiled at her indulgently. "I think you'll both want a vacation every once in a while, don't you? After all, Cardiff isn't the center of the universe, just a rift in time and space."

"Can we, Jack?"

Her face was so earnest and her query so heartfelt that Jack was tempted to promise that Cardiff could be the vacation and the TARDIS could be their life. Belatedly, however, he remembered Ianto and Torchwood, and ended up merely agreeing with the Time Lord.

"Who can top the TARDIS? It'll be fantastic."

Too soon, they were back in the guest bedroom of the house in Colorado Springs. It was seven minutes to midnight, and the Doctor wished to leave before the clock struck twelve. His friends should have some time alone. He bid them a quick, jovial goodbye, hoping neither one would understand how lonely he truly felt.

Hand in hand, they watched the TARDIS disappear.

"I hope he finds a companion soon."

"He will. He always does." Jack reassured her as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Come on, it's close to midnight; the house is completely ours, and we have a bottle of champagne. Let's make the most of it."


	25. No

Author's Notes - Thanks to James Birdsong for the review-short, but to the point. I thought about deleting this chapter. I'm still thinking of deleting this chapter. It's messy and over the top, and the Doctor's got to be blind not to figure things out. However, I'm going to cringe and let it stand because it would take too much rewriting to exclude it.

* * *

><p>Melissa woke screaming, her head threatening to split open. Susan and Matthew were standing by her bed, distressed and disturbed.<p>

"Mom, what's wrong?" Matthew begged as she fled to the bathroom, retching.

"Nothing. It was just a nightmare. Go back to sleep." Once her stomach was no longer churning, she forced herself to stand, giving them the best 'do as I say' look she could muster.

Reluctantly, they went back to their rooms, although neither one of them intended to sleep. As they disappeared from sight, she scrawled a note and placed it on her bedside table. Taking a few deep breaths, she pressed her hands to her head in a futile attempt to relieve the pain, but it didn't help at all. Lightheaded and nauseous, she focused on just one thought as she reached for the phone.

Waking seven cranky M. Jones' in London, Melissa swore as all seven turned out to be wrong numbers. There wasn't a Martha in the bunch. Without regard to her phone bill, she asked the operator to try the next on the list, and this time she was successful. Unfortunately, it was Martha's answering machine that she heard on the other line.

Frantic, she tried to remember the name of Martha's mother. Fran, Francis, no, Francine! Desperately, she asked the operator to search for a Francine Jones this time. Hardly daring to hope, she had the international operator make the connection.

"Jones' residence." A female voice an ocean away answered on the fourth ring.

"Are you the Francine Jones who has a daughter named Martha?"

"I am," the voice replied warily.

"Ms. Jones, please, you have to help me. I need to contact the Doctor. I tried calling Martha, but I only got her voice mail. I need her old phone number, the one the Doctor's got. It's a matter of life or death!"

The woman's tone was sharp as she replied and her voice could have frozen molten lava. "Who's this? How did you get my number?"

Panicking and barely coherent, Melissa begged. "Please, Jack's in trouble. I have to find the Doctor!"

"Who are you?"

"My name's Melissa, Melissa Morgan. Please, Ms. Jones, you have to help me." The edges of her vision were starting to blur.

"What color is your hair?"

"What?" Of all questions, Melissa had not expected that one.

"What color is your hair?"

"Red," she answered quickly, wondering if she were already delirious.

A much friendlier Francine quickly gave her the Doctor's number. Melissa abruptly ended the call as soon as she had what she needed. She was in too much agony to make an attempt at politeness. Barely managing to press the buttons of her phone, she stood shakily as she waited for the Doctor to answer.

"Hello? Martha?" The Doctor answered congenially on the fifth ring.

"Help me." She didn't hear his reply or his anxious demands for an explanation. Already, the phone was slipping through her fingers as her body followed the same downward path.

The TARDIS materialized in the middle of her bedroom just as she hit the floor. Unfortunately, the bedside table was in the way and her face hit it on the way down. When the Doctor gently turned her over, her nose was bleeding and swelling rapidly, and it was obvious that she was going to have quite a shiner on her left eye.

Checking her over with the sonic screwdriver, he frowned. The neural activity in her brain was elevated, and he had no way of knowing how long she had been in such a state. Also, her nose was broken rather than bruised. Wishing that he had arrived a few seconds sooner, he did his best to make her comfortable.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa woke from a troubled dream. Not understanding why her face felt painfully swollen and her nose was incredibly stuffy, she cautiously touched her left cheek, then the bridge of her nose. Both were extremely sore and she regretted her actions immediately. Groaning, she tried to remember what had happened to her. Had she been in some sort of accident?

Her groan alerted the person sitting in the battered chair nearby that she just might be waking up. "Finally decided to join us, I see." He smiled at her, but his manner was guarded and the smile did not meet his eyes.

"Doctor?"

"That's me. Hello." Standing, he scanned her with the sonic screwdriver, but this time she was far too exhausted to make an attempt to bat away the annoying buzz.

"Was I in an accident? Did I have a migraine while driving? I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" She blurted out questions as fast as she could think of them, trying to understand his presence and the injuries to her face. A terrifying thought entered her mind, and her fear was evident as her assumptions changed. "Marshall didn't escape, did he? Oh God, tell me that man's still in jail! Please, Doctor, what happened to me?"

Instantly, he was beside her, easing her fears. "Marshall's in jail where he belongs, and he's going to stay there. You had a migraine, and you were unlucky enough to hit your face on the nightstand when you fell."

"Oh." She was immensely relieved, but still didn't understand the reason she was in the TARDIS infirmary. Lying back on the pillow, she wearily closed her eyes, trying to remember, but found it difficult to concentrate.

Gently holding her hand, the Doctor let her fall back asleep. It was the fourth time she'd woken in forty-three hours, but it was the first time she had recognized him and been lucid. He took it as a positive sign. Although the contents of the note he had found on her nightstand weighed heavily on his mind, he knew better than to rush her recovery.

The next time Melissa woke, she was alone in the infirmary. Her hand flew to her face, gently testing to see if she had dreamed the part where the Doctor had told her she had fallen face first onto her bedside table. It was painful enough that she didn't doubt it had all been real. Curious, she stood shakily, holding onto the metal headboard for support. Her legs were trembling so much that she wasn't sure if she could walk, but she wanted to talk to the Doctor and Susan and Matthew. Besides, she definitely needed a shower.

Feeling extremely lightheaded, she didn't notice the Doctor until he was helping her sit on the bed. "Don't need you taking a tumble twice. Here, drink this."

Sipping the vile concoction he had handed to her, she briefly closed her eyes. The next time she opened them, she was laying on the bed once again, the Doctor sitting in the metal chair holding an Agatha Christie novel in his hand.

"Feeling better?"

She gave serious thought to his question. "Much. Although my face is throbbing. You don't happen to have any Tylenol, do you?"

"Afraid not, sorry, but I do have breakfast waiting in the kitchen if you feel up to it."

Finding herself ravenously hungry, she wholeheartedly agreed with that idea, until she realized how grungy she felt. "Can I get a shower first?"

"Sure." He smiled encouragingly at her, and then his features clouded with concern. "Just, don't make too much of your face right now. It's going to take a few more days for the swelling to go down."

Cleaned and dressed, she spent much longer staring at her face in the mirror than she intended. It looked like she had been hit by a truck, or at least battered by a baseball bat. Her left eye was black and almost swollen shut, and her nose was so swollen it looked like it had been stung by a hive of angry bees. No wonder it was easier to breathe through her mouth. She wondered what the kids thought of it.

Walking to the console room, she hoped the Doctor had parked the TARDIS inside the house rather than under the aspen trees. She really didn't feel up to much of a walk; her legs were already turning to jelly.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Confused, she took her hand away from the outer door and turned to face the Doctor. "You said breakfast was in the kitchen."

His face took on that compassionate countenance that she had learned to associate with bad news. "I meant the TARDIS kitchen. We're in the Vortex right now, Melissa."

"Why?" Without giving him a chance to reply, she demanded, "Where are Susan and Matthew?"

"They're fine at home, no doubt worrying about you. I'll get you back just minutes later; I promise."

The why would be much more difficult to answer, and he didn't want to explain until she was stronger. He could see that she was already shaking from the exertion of simply walking through the ship. Leading her to the kitchen, he fixed her a hearty plate, not surprised when she only managed a bite or two of eggs and a half of a piece of toast.

"Now, why don't you get some rest and we'll talk later."

She was tired; he knew it, and she knew he knew it. Even so, she was not going to give in that easily. "I think you owe me an explanation first." Sitting back in the chair, she folded her arms, waiting for him to speak. She hoped it would be soon; already she could feel the growing weight of her eyelids.

He almost smiled in sheer joy when he saw the strength of her stubbornness. She had come so close to dying this time, and even seventeen hours ago he was not entirely sure she would ever wake up in her right mind. It wouldn't do for her to think he was amused, however. She might take it the wrong way.

"Fine, I suppose you are owed an explanation. How about we talk in the media room, eh? Much more comfortable there."

"Sure." She wasn't sure, however. She didn't think she could walk to the media room without leaning against the wall for support, but she wasn't going to let him know that.

As she stood, the Doctor gave her a friendly hug, keeping his arm around her shoulder as they walked down the hallways. If she leaned on him a little bit to get to where they were going, he didn't mention it. Helping her to sit on the comfortably worn sofa, he began to pace, wondering where to begin.

Letting her eyes shut briefly, Melissa thought of the last time she had been in the media room. It had been just before she had told Matthew and Susan that she planned to move them to Cardiff, just before Susan had decided to act like a complete witch. They had all been relatively happy, although it had been all too apparent that for Jack and the Doctor it was a deliberate act. Every once in a while, one of their masks would slip and she could see the pain of something hiding beneath their good humor. Still, they had enjoyed watching the last Harry Potter movie and the pizza and popcorn. She had sat on the same sofa, snuggled up to Jack, dreaming of their future together. It was enough to make her smile at the memory.

She felt a warm blanket being placed on top of her. A pillow was suddenly behind her head and her body was now stretched out on the couch. The Doctor, of course, he must have no intention of explaining anytime soon. Too comfortable to be angry, she managed to grumble at him before she sank into slumber. "You're going to have to tell me sometime."

This time, he did smile at her stubbornness, although her eyes remained closed, and she didn't notice. "Rest. We're in the Vortex. There's plenty of time to talk."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Melissa awoke with a stuffy nose, she immediately remembered why she shouldn't touch her face. Sitting up slowly, she was relieved that the rest of her felt mostly normal. She rubbed the back of her neck, watching the Doctor finish a book the size of War in Peace in less than five minutes.

"Something I would enjoy?"

He looked over to her, smiling congenially. "A complete history of the planet Sto, although when it says complete, it obviously falls short, but all in all, it's somewhat dry reading. I could offer you The Time Machine instead."

Sidetracked for a moment, she replied lightly. "I'm more of a C.S. Lewis fan."

Intrigued, the Doctor quickly asked, "Oh, have you read The Screwtape Letters? That book is a gem."

She was about to answer when she remembered why she was in the media room in the first place. "Nice try, Doctor, but we can discuss favorite authors later. I think I'm awake enough to hear some explanations now."

The smile on the Doctor's face fell. "Explanations, right. Simple really, except where it's not. Um, let's see. You had a migraine. You managed to call me before you passed out, although I didn't arrive in time to prevent your most spectacular fall onto your nightstand. Your neural activity was elevated longer than I would have liked, and you wrote a note during your episode."

Staring compassionately at her for several seconds, he suddenly brightened. "Well, then. I think that just about covers it."

She gaped at him, wondering how he could make such revelations so blandly. She had called him? Written a note? And just how long was longer than he would like? How long had she been unconscious? How much time had she lost? Why were they in the Vortex and not parked near the house?"

Exasperated, she snapped at him, "You know very well that doesn't cover it. Are you going to explain, or do I have to ask you specific questions one by one?"

"Well," he admitted reluctantly, drawing out the word into two long syllables. "I suppose it might be easier if you ask specific questions. That way, I would know what to explain first."

Counting to ten silently, she decided it would do no good to swear at him. The Doctor finally seemed willing to tell her what was going on, even if she now had to play twenty questions to hear the tale.

"Okay, fine," she began with a hint of impatience. "Why are we in the Vortex instead of at the house?"

Leaning forward in the chair, he rested his elbows on his legs for a moment before straightening. He really wished that hadn't been the first question. "The note you wrote was somewhat time sensitive, and I wasn't sure how long it would take for you to wake." Or if you ever would, he added to himself. There were a few things she didn't need to know. "When the TARDIS is in the Time Vortex, it's not part of established events, and I don't need to worry about becoming caught up in a particular timeline."

Not sure she understood, she tried to summarize. "So, we're somewhere where there's no when."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," he assured her.

"Because of a note."

"Partly. Mostly." Unconsciously, he ran his fingers through his hair, not sure how much to tell her.

"A note I wrote."

"Definitely." Dreading the next question, he gave her a half-hearted grin.

"And what did I write?" He looked like he had been caught smoking at school; why was that guilty look on his face?

Taking the note out of his suit coat pocket, he wordlessly handed it to her. She scanned it quickly; then, she read it again just to be sure she understood. Her eyes blazed with anger and fear. "What the hell have you been waiting for? Take us there now!"

"I will, just as soon as you eat and drink something. You're still weak; you need to rest."

Angry at his paternalism, she stood abruptly, ready to march to the console room and force him to input the coordinates. Except, a piece of toast and a few bites of eggs were all that she had eaten in three days, and she found her legs too shaky to do anything more dramatic than stand.

"How do you think I could eat anything knowing this?"

He watched the parts of her face that weren't bruised and swollen grow paler the longer she remained standing. Finally, she sat heavily on the sofa, her eyes starting to tear as she admitted defeat. "Please find him. If that note is true . . . . ." A sob escaped her lips.

"Don't cry," he admonished gently, his eyes expressing the depth of his own anguish. "Crying won't help your nose. I'll find him; I promise."

"Fine." He was right; crying was only making her nose stuffier; now she sounded like some sort of duck when she spoke.

After he had disappeared, she stubbornly tried to follow, but found herself lost, as if the hallways were twisting and turning in new directions. She kept finding the kitchen, and finally took the hint. She fixed herself a sandwich and ate it without tasting. Taking a bottle of water with her, she wandered the halls, but her stamina ebbed quickly, and she begrudgingly found her room and went to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Melissa? Melissa, Sweetheart, can you hear me?"

Languidly, she stretched, wishing she didn't have to wake up; she had been in the middle of such a nice dream. Jack had been stroking her cheek—the one that didn't hurt—and whispering such sweet things in her ear. In her imagination, she thought she could even smell the clean, brisk smell of the soap he always used.

"Come on, Sweetheart, you need to wake up now."

Her eyes flew open. "Jack?" Throwing her arms around him, she started to cry in relief, not caring about her nose. He was smiling lovingly at her through her tears, and she almost convinced herself that the note had been nothing more than her delusional ramblings, except his hair was wet from the shower; the smell of soap filled her nostrils, and still the tips of his fingers were stained with black dirt that would likely take days to completely rub away.

"What happened to you?"

"A misunderstanding with an old partner," he hedged, not wanting to burden her with the details.

"God, Jack, how can you call being buried alive a misunderstanding? I can't even imagine what it must have been like for you."

"It's over. You don't have to think about it." He didn't want to think about it, either, but the knowledge that Gray was alive and trying to punish him through those he cared about was like a knife wound to his stomach. He needed to come up with a plan, quickly, for the sake of his own sanity.

"It's my fault," she admitted morose conviction.

"Why would you think that?"

"I don't remember writing the note. You must have called me for help but I had a migraine. I don't even know how long you were trapped. I'm sorry; I'm sorry." She began to cry in earnest, great racking sobs that bent her over with guilt and grief.

Never completely sure why he reacted the way he did, he became angry, standing abruptly to tower over her as he shouted his frustration. "Damn it, Melissa! This isn't your fault! It's never your fault, and I'm tired of trying to convince you! I never called you! I don't pretend to understand that head of yours, but you almost killed yourself getting that message to the Doctor."

The Time Lord, who had quietly slipped into the media room when he heard the shouting, watched apprehensively as Melissa suddenly stood, poking Jack in the chest with her finger, making him take two involuntary steps backwards.

Harshly rubbing her forehead as the pain increased, she was more than willing to explain a thing or two. "You listen to me, Jack Harkness. If you think for a minute that I was willing to let you stay entombed under Cardiff for two thousand years, then you don't know me as well as you think. For once, the Bad Wolf and I agree. That Time Agent you're counting on is a complete moron! What name is he using now, John Hart? His brain's too fried to be much use, you know. And Gray's no better! Do you think he'll spare anyone at Torchwood? He's going to try to kill everything you love, and I won't let him! This isn't your penance, Jack! You don't deserve this. Letting go of Gray's hand doesn't make you responsible for what happened to him! You were twelve, for Christ's sake! Let the Doctor help you! Let me help you! The Bad Wolf can save everything; just let us help."

Jack stared at her in horror, wanting nothing to do with the Bad Wolf. He could see by the agony on Melissa's face the price she was paying for being a puppet to that creature. The Bad Wolf had done enough to him; he didn't want it to kill the one thing he cherished above all else in a twisted effort to keep him from harm.

"No."

He said it calmly, ashamed that he had ever yelled at her in the first place. Deliberately, he turned his back on her, walking slowly out of the room. Tears were falling unchecked down his face, and he wanted to do nothing more than to turn around and run back to her, but he refused to put her in any more danger.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wearily, the Doctor set the controls of his ship, hoping to make his passenger see reason.

"She's going to be fine, Jack. She'll be asleep for a while. Why don't you let me help?"

"You mean she'll be unconscious for a while." Jack was standing next to the Doctor, gripping the railing of the console so tightly his knuckles were white. It was killing him to leave her when he didn't even know how she had been affected by her latest episode.

"Captain—"

He cut him off; frustrated with the whole situation. "Don't make the offer again, Doc. How do you know the Bad Wolf won't take over and make her do something her body's not made to? With the Master, I thought it must be some kind of fluke. I thought it was all because she was so close and had gotten into his head. But you explain to me how she knew where and when to find me. This time, it could only be the Bad Wolf, and I don't want some immature god deciding Melissa's an acceptable loss, damn it!"

"We could take her home first." He wanted to help so badly. His friend had been cursed with immortality, and was just now finding out how much of a curse it could actually be.

"No, I have to do this alone." He paused for a moment, not wanting to break down in front of the Time Lord. "It's Gray, Doc. I love him no matter what he's done to me. I think you can probably understand that better than anyone else."

"Yeah." The Time Lord swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. "I'm not sure Melissa will, though."

Sitting heavily on the jump seat, Jack looked up at the Doctor grim-faced. "I know, but I can't put her in danger anymore. I know she's going to die someday. I just can't stand the thought of me being the cause of it. The Bad Wolf can go fuck herself."

The Doctor didn't have an answer for that. He didn't think Rose would let Melissa come to harm, but twice now Melissa had suffered because of the Bad Wolf. He still thought that she would ultimately be protected, but there was no use trying to convince Jack of that now.

Resigned, he helped Jack place himself in suspended animation in the Torchwood vaults, knowing that whatever happened, it would not include a happy ending for his two friends.


	26. A Little R&R

Author's Notes - Thanks to twilight's reflection for the very positive review. It's nice to know people are enjoying this. And, I apologize to Mary Mathesen and anyone else who's never seen Torchwood. While those characters are definitely in this story, I really don't consider this a crossover, and the last chapter is the only one that you might not understand even though much of the next part takes place in Cardiff. Thanks for being such patient readers. This is the last chapter before everything changes. Enjoy.

* * *

><p>Melissa hurried to answer the door while putting her un-brushed hair in a loose ponytail. She desperately hoped it wasn't anyone from the school. With her baggy grey sweats and red-rimmed eyes, she wasn't going to make a good impression if it was. Surely Matthew, who was in trouble already, would be smart enough not to cause a commotion today of all days.<p>

"Melissa! Good to see you. You're looking . . . well, good to see you at any rate. Is this a bad time?" the Doctor asked, taking in her untidy hair, blotchy face and unusually frumpy clothes.

"Never a bad time for you," she replied, brightening visibly.

"Oi! Spaceman, you gonna introduce me or what?" Melissa was surprised to see a tall, brassy red-head close to her own age elbow her way to the door. "I'm Donna, by the way, Donna Noble. Feel like I know you already. He's been doing nothing but talking about you the last two days."

Sticking out her hand to shake Donna's, Melissa began to pull herself together. "Oh, it's really nice to meet you! I can't believe I look like this. Come on in and make yourself at home while I change. We can go out for lunch. Today's my birthday, and you two are the perfect excuse to celebrate."

With a flourish, the Doctor presented her with a bouquet of exotic flowers that he had hidden behind his back. "Couldn't visit on your birthday empty-handed, now could we?"

"Oh, they're beautiful. I love purple. How did you know that Lexolian stranyth lilies are my favorite?"

Walking into the house to put the bouquet in water, she idly rubbed her forehead. The Doctor shot a look at Donna, and his companion closed her mouth, keeping her unasked question to herself.

"Where are Susan and Matthew?" he asked, hoping to distract her.

Her cheery disposition evaporated instantly. "They're at school, and if Matthew knows what's good for him, he'll make it through the day without being suspended again."

"What happened?"

"He built a bomb." Even now, she still had trouble believing what he had done.

"I don't believe it," he affirmed, echoing her own skepticism. "There must have been some sort of mistake."

"He didn't mean to build a bomb. That's why he got off with a suspension. He was trying to do something with water and lasers that I won't even pretend to understand. Only, it ended up being much more destructive than he anticipated. The only reason no one else was hurt was he tested it one final time before the science fair. That's when it exploded." She sniffed loudly before adding with bitter irony, "No science fair for him again this year."

Hating to do nothing, Donna found a glass, filled it with water and handed it to Melissa, who accepted it gratefully. Taking a long sip, she continued. "The school decided the destruction was unintentional, but they had to suspend him for a week in light of the seriousness of the incident.

"How badly was he injured?" The Doctor hoped the boy hadn't been severely hurt. Melissa had said he was back at school, hadn't she?

"He had second degree burns on his face and third degree burns covering most of his hands."

"Oh my God." Donna gasped, unable to contain her shock.

The Doctor winced, knowing how much his friend would have been affected by the burns on her son's body. He wondered if her nightmares had a new, even more personal component. "I'm sorry."

"He's dealing with it pretty well. His hands are still in pressure gloves, but his face is mostly healed." She re-arranged the flowers in the vase to give her the excuse to turn away from them, needing to get her emotions under control.

"What's really wrong then?" he asked her gently.

Letting loose her anger, she turned around to glare at him. "He's become an arrogant, disrespectful, stuck-up know-it-all who's decided he can do no wrong. In the last two weeks, he's gotten drunk twice, skipped school, and been found in the back of a car with a cheerleader, and they weren't studying for a physics test!"

Breaking down, she vented her frustration. "He told me that he's old enough to make his own decisions. He called me an out-of-touch, over-the-hill, neurotic woman who's holding him back. Three different defense contractors are competing to hire him when he graduates just to develop his laser technology, and he doesn't understand why I want him to go to college first."

Donna embraced her in a warm hug before the Doctor could respond. "It sounds like your son's an idiot then. Maybe he'll go through his idiot phase early and end up a responsible adult. 'Course my mum still thinks I'm an idiot, and it's been thirty plus years, but you never know." Donna smiled at her, hoping to give her some comfort.

"He's decidedly not coping well, Melissa. Why don't I have a word with him later, eh? Right now, though, you should get changed and we'll find something to do for your birthday."

Grateful for the Doctor's offer, she ran into her room to get dressed. Maybe the day wouldn't be so horrible after all. She had already received a better present than she had expected.

Watching Melissa disappear down the hall, Donna turned towards her friend. "I don't know about you, Spaceman, but I think she needs this visit as much as you do."

Shoving his hands in his pockets, the Doctor walked to the window in the den to watch the deer feed in the front yard. "You know, Donna, I believe you're right.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Waiting at the bus stop to talk to Matthew, the Doctor hid his disappointment as Susan exited the bus alone. "Susan! Good to see you!" He gave her a quick hug and then slung her backpack over his shoulder as they began to walk up the hill.

"It's good to see you, too. Maybe Mom's birthday won't be a total disaster." She began trudging up the sidewalk, hoping that the Doctor wouldn't ask her where her brother was.

"So, where's your brother, then?"

"He's getting a special present for Mom." Her words were so uncharacteristically bitter and angry that the Doctor stopped walking.

"You might as well tell me all of it," he said resignedly, knowing that Matthew was about to do something particularly stupid.

"He went with some friends to get his tongue and nipple pierced. He knows Mom's going to blow a gasket. He even threatened to get a tattoo at the same time, but I think he's bluffing because he doesn't really like needles." Realizing that she no longer had to face her mother alone, she sagged in relief.

The Doctor sighed, inwardly cursing the rashness of youth. "You don't happen to know where he was going, do you Sue?"

Suddenly hopeful, she quickly answered, "Carl's Tattoo World and Body Piercing. It's downtown."

Handing her the backpack, he started walking towards the TARDIS. Calling over his shoulder, he instructed, "Tell your mother Matthew and I are having a chat. We'll be back in time for dinner." Not waiting for her acknowledgement, he sprinted down the hill.

The Doctor waited patiently for Matthew inside Carl's Tattoo World. Carl was a rather interesting chap, actually. His artistry was truly amazing, and the Time Lord spent several minutes just admiring the photos of his work hanging on the walls. Moreover, the grizzled man had spent a few years in Tibet back in the seventies, and by the time school let out, he and the Doctor were enthusiastically swapping Yeti stories and debating the benefits of tea at high altitude.

Around four, Matthew walked confidently into the tattoo parlor, cracking jokes with his two friends. His face was red, but unscarred, and his hands were encased in tight, flesh tone gloves. Otherwise, he looked like a typical teenager, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt.

"Strange place to look for your mother's birthday present, wouldn't you say?" the Doctor casually remarked as he leaned against the wall.

"Shit."

"You've increased your vocabulary since the last time we spoke. Good for you."

"You can't stop me." After getting over the shock of seeing the Doctor, Matthew decided belligerence was his best defense.

"Stop you? Why would I want to stop you? If you want to get your tongue pierced and chip the enamel off your teeth, I'm certainly not going to stop you. Dentistry's quite good in America, at least for this century." He flashed a predatory grin at the teen, negating the friendliness of his words.

"Changed my mind. I decided to get a tattoo." At that declaration, his two accomplices pulled up their right sleeves to show identical lightning bolt tattoos.

"Brilliant," the Doctor grinned; then suddenly looked thoughtful. "But you don't want something that small, do you? That would be a wasted of Carl's talents, wouldn't it Carl?"

The wiry old artist nodded sagely in agreement.

"No, what you really need is something showy, colorful, something that really makes a statement."

Pushing off the wall, he started pacing near Matthew. "Let's see, would you prefer your chest or your back? Maybe your stomach? No, definitely not your stomach. Thirty, forty years later and you never know how it will look. That's the trouble with humans, you know; they have the tendency to bulge in middle age. So, I'm thinking back. Yep, back, definitely."

As the Doctor's speech quickened and his tone became even more intensely sarcastic, Matthew knew with a sickening lurch that he was about to be eviscerated in front of his friends. He almost wished it was the old Doctor, yelling at him and calling him a stupid ape. At least that would have been quicker, if no less painful.

"Now, what would be an appropriate tattoo? It's going to last the rest of your lifetime, so it should reflect your inner self. Ah hah! You could put your school mascot and logo on your back because nothing says I'm not going to bother furthering my education than having your high school mascot etched into your skin." He glanced at Matthew's friends and noted with satisfaction that they were slowly backing towards the door.

"No?" the Doctor asked, not waiting for a reply. "Well, maybe you're right. You should really get something a little more unique, more you. I know! Why don't you get a giant mushroom cloud on your back? I'm sure Carl could make it quite colorful and dramatic, couldn't you Carl?"

Oh, he was on a roll now, gob going full force, as he manically paced around the still defiant young man.

"After all, you're going to be working for the military industrial complex, aren't you? Because what this world really needs right now is a more powerful and efficient weapon. That is what you managed to invent, isn't it, a weapon that instantly superheats water and turns it into a forceful explosion? Just think, Matthew; almost seventy-five percent of this planet is covered in water. Imagine the damage your laser could do once it's developed properly. It seems a bit different than your goal of improving solar cells, but money's money, and I wouldn't want you to deprive yourself of monetary gain merely for the benefit of the human race."

The alien's face was grim as he stopped pacing and stared condescendingly at the boy. His friends long out the door, Matthew suddenly felt ashamed as the Time Lord continued to drive his lesson home.

"But don't let me stop you. It's none of my business, right? You're old enough to make your own decisions. Let's see, skipping school, getting pissed, flaunting your burgeoning sexuality, sounds like you've been doing a hell of a job on your own. I think the tattoo would simply be icing on your mother's birthday cake. After all, who cares what a pathetic, neurotic, older woman thinks? Certainly not you."

Remorseful, Matthew lifted his head to meet the Doctor's stare, anguish evident on his face. "I really fucked up, didn't I?"

His mood instantly changing, the Time Lord cheerily replied, "Look at it this way, Matthew; you've nowhere to go but up. Now, come with me to the TARDIS. I want to take look at those hands of yours." With a jaunty wave at Carl, the Doctor ushered the teen out of the store.

As a contrite Matthew followed the Doctor towards his ship, he dared to ask, "Is getting a tattoo really that bad? I thought some of the artwork was kinda cool."

"Tattoos? Nah, nothing really wrong with them, I suppose. Never liked them much myself, but then I didn't have a choice in the matter. And I have to admit that that Carl definitely has a gift. No, it's your timing that's off."

He clapped a hand on the boy's back as they entered the TARDIS. "You and I both know you were at Carl's just to hurt your mother. Tell you what, if you still want a tattoo in a few years, I'll take you to Empress Lillibeth's Body Art Emporium in the sixty-seventh century. Now, Lillibeth is a true genius when it comes to body art, and she owes me a favor."

Matthew was treated as the returning prodigal son, and Melissa's birthday turned out much better than she had ever expected. Susan and Donna had made a quick trip to Sam's Club to pick up a carrot cake, and then they stopped at P.F. Chang's for some takeout.

Conversation at dinner was lively and happy. Melissa was pleased to see that Donna seemed to be the perfect companion for her friend. She was outgoing, friendly, sympathetic, and most importantly, she treated the Doctor as a person and not some demigod. She also had no romantic interest in him whatsoever, much to Melissa's relief.

Still, there was a certain tension between the Doctor and his newest companion that she couldn't decipher. It was most apparent when the two were discussing their adventures. Donna kept trying to steer the conversation to a planet called Midnight, but the Doctor kept dismissing the adventure as nothing special. Which most likely meant that Midnight was extremely important, but she would wait until morning to ask him about it.

Donna, for her part, was delighted to spend a few days in Colorado. "Do you mean I can sleep in a house, watch telly whenever I want, and not have to worry about invading aliens? This is brilliant, that's what this is!"

The three Morgans laughed, and Susan was surprisingly the one to respond first. "Well, Donna, if you can stand the reality shows, then you're welcome to it. The aliens invaded a few years back, so you should be safe. But you'll have to share my bedroom if you don't mind, because the Doctor always sleeps in the guest bedroom."

Donna blinked in surprise and then exclaimed loudly, "You mean, that stubborn alien actually sleeps when he's here? If I had known that, I would have made him stop by ages ago!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Melissa slept soundly until five, waking just before her alarm clock. Getting up, she made her way to the kitchen knowing that at least one other person would be awake.

"Tea?" he asked as she sat down at the table.

"Thanks."

Taking a sip of the Earl Grey, she ignored the fact that it didn't taste anything like coffee, letting the warmth slide down her body and ease her slowly into wakefulness.

"I don't know how to thank you this time. Yesterday I was convinced that Matthew was headed down a path of destruction and today I think I might actually have my son back."

"No need to thank me. Like Donna said, everyone goes through an idiot stage. Matthew just realized his a bit sooner than most."

"I'm sure he had some help." He merely shrugged in acknowledgement, and after a moment's reflection, she decided to change the topic. "You and Donna make quite a team."

"Donna? Don't we just. She's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. Well, aside from Rose, of course. She my best mate, and I mean that in the most platonic sense of the word. Mind you, we keep getting mistaken for a couple, but Donna's great, positively brilliant." He had become animated while talking about his new friend and she was glad to hear the enthusiasm in his voice.

As she finished her tea, they sat in comfortable silence before the Doctor decided to satisfy his own curiosity. "So, how's the good Captain, then?"

Stiffening, she replied resentfully, "I wouldn't know. Jack hasn't spoken to me since he left the TARDIS. I got a call from his lover a few weeks afterwards. His brother killed two of his team members. Jack won't kill him, but he can't fix him, so he's frozen in the vaults." Suddenly, she choked on unshed tears. "He blames me; I know it."

"He doesn't," he assured her quietly. "How can he? You found him and then begged him to let us help. It's not your fault, and he knows it."

"That's what you say. I can't even remember it. I must have done something horrible for him not to even want to speak to me." In this instance, she didn't believe his assurances for a second.

"You didn't, I promise."

"Right." The sarcasm in her voice didn't hide the hurt underneath.

He paused a moment, and when he finally spoke again, his voice held the weight of time and harsh experience. "Sometimes, when you can't forgive yourself, the last person you want to see is the one you know is going to forgive you. Sometimes, it's easier to run away than accept a love you no longer think you deserve."

His eyes were haunted like she had never seen before. Understanding, she offered him her arm. "Come on, I think we both could use some air. Let's go for a run."

The air was fresh but not too cold as they started running. After eight miles, she slowed to a walk. She was sweating, her heart rate elevated, and she was feeling satisfied from the endorphin kick her body was providing. The Doctor, as usual, hadn't even broken a sweat, but he too, seemed happier.

"So," she began as they strolled towards the hill near her house, "are you going to tell me why you wouldn't talk about the planet Midnight when Donna so obviously wanted you to?"

Walking beside her in silence for some time, he finally answered as they approached the aspen grove. "I had a rather bad encounter on that planet, and don't care to dwell on it. Donna likes to talk, a lot, if you haven't noticed. Sometimes she expects me to talk as well." Sniffing in disbelief, he added, "She thinks she can help me get in touch with my feelings."

Trying hard not to snort with inappropriate laughter, she decided not to comment. If Donna thought she could get him to open up on command, then she was in for a monumental battle. "You are going to tell me what happened, aren't you?"

"Well," he answered, gazing at Pike's Peak in the distance, "I guess my problems started when Donna refused to join me for the tour to the Diamond Waterfall."

"You went on a tour?" she blurted out in surprise.

"Oi! I've gone on many tours. Well, when I say many, I mean some, and when I say some, I guess I should only count the ones I haven't gotten kicked off, so that leaves only the two. Although, if we're only counting this regeneration, then I guess it was my first tour." He gazed at the mountain, a good enough excuse not to look her in the eye as he spoke, he decided.

"You went on a tour by yourself?" she asked again in disbelief, thoughts of Christmas still in her mind. His lone excursion on the Titanic hadn't ended well either.

"Not the best idea I've had in retrospect," he allowed, and then lapsed into silence.

Touching his arm, she quietly prodded, "What happened?"

"I got on a bus with a bunch of humans; that's what happened," he told her with more emotion than he had intended. Rubbing the back of his neck, he struggled to getting those emotions under control.

"And?" She wasn't going to let him clam up, not now.

He turned back to Pike's Peak. "And, I thought it would be fun. And, it was for a while, fun, I mean. But this creature attacked the bus, killed the two drivers and took over Mrs. Silvestri. I tried to help, really I did, but the humans wanted to throw Mrs. Silvestri out. Since the sun on Midnight's extonic, that would have killed her. I couldn't allow that, so I stopped them." He paused a moment before adding, "I don't think they really appreciated that."

She interrupted as he spoke. "I don't understand. What kind of creature was this? No life form can survive extonic radiation. Even gaseous beings would burn."

Watching her rub her forehead, he ignored her comment. "Anyway, it took over a human being, used her to learn things by repeating. She repeated everything everyone said. Well, didn't that have the humans in a tizzy? But all that time, it was learning, choosing its next victim."

"You."

"Oh, yes." He turned to look at her at this, his eyes filled with self-recrimination. "It began to only repeat the things I said; then, it caught up, said the exact thing I said at the exact same time. It's like it was reading my mind, and I couldn't do a thing to stop it."

He hesitated, thinking of the differences between what the alien had done and what Melissa often did. While Melissa's intrusions often caused him emotional pain; it didn't frighten him. She had no awareness of what she was doing, and there was no malice of thought. The alien, on the other hand, had been coldly calculating and exceptionally perceptive.

Snapping himself out of his reverie, he continued. "Finally, it had complete control. It was using my speech to make Mrs. Silvestri speak, and all I could do was repeat. It stole my voice and paralyzed every muscle in my body. That really scared the humans. It was my turn to be the threat, and they decided to throw me out."

"How did you get away?" He continued to say humans instead of people, and it was beginning to concern her. She hoped those on the tour had completely shaken his faith in humanity.

"I didn't. They were just about to throw me out when the hostess realized what was happening. She held onto Mrs. Silvestri and opened the emergency exit. Two people died so I could live."

He continued in that voice she hated; the one where he pretended that everything was quite alright, thank you very much. "Luckily, the creature lost its hold on me once it was ejected. Took quite a lot of convincing the resort that they had a problem on their hands. No more spas on Midnight, I'm afraid. Still, plenty of planets to open up a resort; maybe they'll actually build one at the beach. I'd enjoy a beach holiday every once in a while, wouldn't you?"

"There's no beach here, but I hope you'll consider it a holiday. That is why you came, isn't it, a little R&R?"

"Maybe I just needed reminding that humans aren't all bad." He gazed at her fondly, a small, sad smile on his face.

"Oh, we're a bunch of stupid apes, alright, but I'm sure you've known that for quite a while. Can't imagine how you put up with us." That sad smile was still there, and Melissa decided she couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed him into a hug. "I'm sorry. If I had been there, I would have kicked their ass. Nobody messes with my Doctor."

The image of her as a tiny, red haired avenger, karate chopping to his defense flashed through his mind, and he laughed in spite of himself. "I'm sure you would have."

"Yeah, well, don't you forget it." She mimed a roundhouse kick and a karate chop with a grin on her face.

"Intimidating," he smirked as they made their way up the hill.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once Susan and Matthew had reluctantly left for school with the promise that the Doctor would be there when they returned, the three adults sat in the den eating leftover carrot cake for breakfast.

"So, Donna, what would you like to see while we're in Colorado? There's Pike's Peak, Garden of the Gods, Rocky Mountain National Park, Denver, Boulder, Aspen, Florrissant Fossil Beds, abandoned gold mines, Mesa Verde, the Four Corners . . . ." He continued to rattle off tourist destinations until his companion had had enough.

"Oi! There is such a thing as too many choices, you know. Actually, I'd like to relax and watch telly today, if no one minds."

Knowing she would get no better opportunity to have a private word with Donna, Melissa smiled brightly and begged a favor. "Doctor, do you mind tweaking the sonic barrier around the yard so that it deters prairie dogs? They are popping up in the back, and I can't stand the holes they're digging, not to mention I'm afraid they'll get into the house and make a mess."

"One prairie dog free zone coming up! Need any other chores done around the house, ma'am?" he asked in an exaggerated western accent.

"I'd slap him if I were you," Donna advised.

"Oh, he tells me I've done that before," she remarked offhandedly.

"You're ganging up on me already! I knew it; I can't get two of you together for more than a few minutes before you're united against me! Just for that, I'm going to make some repairs to the TARDIS after I banish your varmints, Melissa Morgan. Ooh, I like that word, varmints, very Wily Coyote, or is that Yosemite Sam?"

"Out, Doctor," Donna ordered. "Go do whatever it is you do with that ship of yours. If you're lucky, we'll remember to bring you a sandwich for lunch."

Putting on his coat, the Doctor snatched the last piece of carrot cake from the cake plate and started for the front door. "Just in case you forget," he called out as the door closed behind him.

As her friend left, Melissa turned to Donna, who was already flipping through the TV channels. "He told me about Midnight. Any other adventures I should know about?"

"Did he tell you about the Library, then?" As Melissa shook her head, Donna turned off the television and began to talk. It all started when this archaeologist sent him a message. Her name was River Song . . . ."

After hearing about River Song and the Library, Melissa excused herself to the kitchen and left Donna watching Oprah. She didn't want to cry in front of the new girl, even if she seemed perfectly nice. Plus, she didn't know for whom she was crying more, the Doctor, for losing a woman he might be destined to love, or Donna, for losing her entire family, even if they had been a computer program.

Deciding to make red beans and rice for dinner, she chopped enough pungent onions to camouflage any hint of tears that might remain on her face. The beans were soaking as she and Donna fixed sandwiches and took a break.

"So, how long have you known the Doctor, then?" Donna asked as she bit into her sandwich. "He never did give me a straight answer when I asked."

"Several years, but I suspect it's been much longer for him. And before you ask, you're the third companion I've met."

"So, you've met Martha? Did you know she's engaged?" Donna was about to ask for crisps when her hostess put three bags on the table.

"That's great news! She must be over her crush if she's gotten engaged." Melissa opened the bag of Doritos and absently grabbed a handful.

"You knew about that?"

"I think the only one who didn't know about it was the Doctor." She shook her head, remembering Martha's unwarranted jealousy. Thinking of Sarah Jane and Rose, she asked, "How'd you meet Martha, anyway? He gets nervous when past companions compare notes."

"She called us back. UNIT needed help dealing with those ATMOS devices. Turned out they were being used by these Sonterans to turn the Earth into a breeding planet."

"Sontarans," Melissa correct automatically, her brow wrinkling in unease.

"Yeah, I never can say that right. Actually travelled with Martha, you know. The TARDIS hijacked all of us to this planet Messaline. Horrible place, really; they were using some weird sort of technology and made this soldier out of the Doctor's DNA. She was literally his daughter, two hearts and everything. At first, he didn't want to have anything to do with her, so I named her; gave her the name Jenny." Donna paused wistfully, remembering.

"Jenny was brilliant. She was smart, inquisitive, enthusiastic, unbelievably agile-seriously, you would not believe the things she could do, and she refused to be the soldier she had been programmed to be. It took a while for him to warm up to her. He was scared of caring for someone again, but he finally accepted her. And he was so happy, the happiest I've ever seen him. But Jenny stepped in front of a bullet meant for him, and she died in his arms."

Jumping up, Melissa knocked over the chair she had been sitting on and backed against the wall. Sobbing hysterically, she began to yell. "He can't! I won't let him this time! He can't take Susan!"

Confused and concerned, Donna tried to calm Melissa, but nothing worked. Finally, she put her hand on the hysterical woman's arm, intending to tell her she was going to get the Doctor. Immediately, her hostess slumped unconscious to the floor.

Donna raced to the TARDIS, hoping the Doctor could help. "Doctor! Doctor!" she bellowed as she flung open the door.

"Right here, Donna. What's the matter?" he asked as he pushed himself out from underneath the grating.

"Your friend went barmy; that's what's the matter. I told her about Jenny, and she went crazy. She kept yelling 'he can't take Susan' and when I touched her, she fainted. I need your help." Donna was panting with exertion, not used to running at high altitudes.

Without commenting, he raced out of the TARDIS and ran up the hill as fast as he could. There could be only one reason why she feared someone would take Susan away. She'd been in his memories, again. Choking back a sob as he recalled the painful events that had led him to leave Gallifrey with his granddaughter, he raced into the house, fearful of what he might find.

Melissa seemed to be fine, however. She was sitting at the kitchen table, rubbing her head.

She hadn't noticed him, so he called out quietly. "You gave Donna quite a fright."

"I bet I did," she agreed as she saw the concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I think that's supposed to be my line," he rejoined as he gave her a relieved smile.

Briefly looking down, she wrung her hands. Doing her best to stay positive, she joked weakly before asking the question she always feared. "Well, at least I didn't break my nose this time. Did I lose much?"

"Since you remember Donna, you must not have lost all that much. What's the last thing you remember?"

"I woke up before my alarm went off, and then I found myself here. It says one-sixteen. Did I lose hours or days?"

"Hours," he announced somberly.

"Oh. I guess that's better than days."

He nodded, wondering how she could stay positive at all. "If you give me a minute, Donna and I can be on our way, and you can rest. Your body needs to recover."

"You're leaving?" she asked in stunned disbelief.

"It's for the best."

"Why?"

"It's my fault you had a migraine," he answered flatly, as if that explained everything.

Just then, Donna walked into the kitchen. Taking in the scene, she quickly sided with her hostess. "Ignore him, Melissa. We're staying for a few days. He's just brooding. Thinks everything's his fault, that one."

"Donna, I do not brood!"

In spite of herself, Melissa chuckled. "You do, too. You do tend to blame yourself for things that are out of your control."

He couldn't believe his ears. "Oi! Pot and kettle, Melissa! Or are you going to stop blaming yourself for Jack's guilt?

Hurt, she opened her mouth to make an angry retort, but snapped it closed in surprise. "Are you angry at me?"

"Of course not," he answered immediately, thinking the question absurd.

"Then why are we fighting?"

He gave serious consideration to the question before answering. "We're not, as such. I mean, it may have appeared that way for a moment, but I definitely not angry, and I'm hoping your not angry with me, and . . . . Perhaps we can start over?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure." Holding out her hand, she said, "Hello, I'm Melissa Morgan. I'm a widow from another universe with two marvellous, infuriating teenagers about to graduate from high school. Who are you?"

Shaking her hand, the Doctor grinned. "Very pleased to meet you, Melissa Morgan. I'm the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord from Gallifrey who travels in a blue police box. And, I have a string of amazing, brilliant companions who accompany me on my adventures."

Donna rolled her eyes at their antics. "I can definitely see how you two get along. Both of you have an atrocious sense of humor."

"Hey!"

"Oi!"

"Well, you do. Now, I think I've had enough drama for one day. Think you can show me this Garden of the Gods before your kids get home from band practice, Melissa?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Staying in Colorado Springs for three more days, Donna finally got to watch some television and relax, although she managed a fair amount of sightseeing, too. The Doctor slept more soundly than he had in several months, and with Melissa's help, dealt with the nightmares of Midnight better than he expected. There was no more drama in the household, teenage rebellion or otherwise. Susan and Matthew left on a senior trip to Washington, D.C., the same morning that the Doctor and Donna said their goodbyes. The Doctor promised to return for graduation, and Matthew once again thanked the Time Lord for bringing him to his senses. For once, Melissa found herself truly alone. Trying to be cheerful, she decided to engage in some retail therapy.


	27. Deja Vu All Over Again

Author's Notes - When I first wrote this, Turn Left had only aired a few months ago. Just in case the details are fuzzy now, Donna makes a choice that results in her not working for HC Clements. The Doctor dies defeating the Racnoss as a result. The chapter begins during that Christmas.

I'd like to thank everyone who's stuck with the story so far, and thanks to everyone who has reviewed and put it on alert or favorites. It's really nice to see so many people enjoying it.

* * *

><p>Standing in line at the mall sucks, Melissa thought sourly as she waited impatiently to pay for the designer jeans Susan wanted for Christmas. It really, really sucks, she added a half hour later as she stood in another line to buy Matthew the book he had put at the top of his gift list. Next year I'm going to do this all online, she thought as a fresh wave of déjà vu hit her.<p>

It had been happening for months, she realized as she searched for her Volvo in a sea of SUVs. Déjà vu all over again. Though, to be perfectly honest, she had to admit that it was much better than the migraines she used to get. She hadn't had those since the Cybermen, although her nightmares were ever present, as was her worry about the Doctor. She hadn't seen him since the spring when they had all camped in Rocky Mountain National Park, months before Canary Wharf and the day she had found Rose's name on the list of the dead. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she put the packages in the trunk of the car and headed for Best Buy. She still had those IPods to get.

Beating the kids back home, she hid the Christmas presents in the empty safe room in the basement. At least she knew they wouldn't look for them in that room, she thought as she stretched her left shoulder. Still stiff, but coming along nicely. It caught whenever she put on her coat, but in most instances she had full range of motion-a small price to pay for surviving an alien invasion. Although Sarah Jane had said the Cybermen were originally humans, so maybe they didn't count as aliens after all.

Deciding to order pizza for dinner, she began to unpack the three gingerbread kits she had bought the week before. Today the kids were finishing finals and starting Christmas vacation, which meant that it was time for the annual Morgan gingerbread house contest. She had been saving candy since Halloween, and hoped she had enough to go around. Really, she didn't know which Susan and Matthew enjoyed more, making the houses, or destroying them at the end of vacation.

She fondly remembered one year when Mark decided to use darts as the destruction method of choice. It had taken longer than the usual rocks, but had been oddly satisfying. Thinking of Mark reminded her of her brother Brad and how much she missed him. He had spent Christmas at her house ever since the twins had been born. He always made the most intricate gingerbread houses, all the while seeming to put the least amount of effort into it.

Then her thoughts grew melancholy as she wondered if Jack had anyone with which to celebrate Christmas. Really, she hoped that he was happy, but mostly she desperately missed him. Knowing it did no good to worry about things over which she had no control, Melissa ran to greet her children with forced cheerfulness as they tumbled through the front door.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Grown women really shouldn't get panic attacks in their own house, especially on Christmas Eve, Melissa thought as she watched AMN's coverage of whatever was happening in London. It looked like another alien invasion, this time a star-like spaceship, which had been blown up by the British military on live TV. As the pundits discussed the newest UFO incident in the UK, feelings of déjà vu once again swept over her, but this time they were making her heart race and her stomach dangerously nauseated.

As the pain increased, she dropped to her knees, ignoring her children's frightened questions. Her head felt like it was splitting open, and confused images began to play in her mind. In the midst of the chaos, one thought remained-find the watch; find it now.

Scarcely knowing why, she staggered to her feet and into Matthew's room. She found his backpack stuffed underneath several layers of dirty clothes, and hastily unzipped the front pocket. Sticking her hand inside, she felt the cold chill of metal and grabbed.

Opening her hand, she stared blankly at the silver object before her. It was an intricately designed pocket watch, which she would have called beautiful if not for the singe marks and blackened gash along the back. No, definitely not beautiful, yet it mesmerized her.

"Mom?" Susan called fearfully, watching her mother stared dazedly at the one item she and Matthew had argued over since finding it the day they arrived in another world.

As if awakening from a deep sleep, Melissa blinked at her daughter. "Oh, Susan, I'm sorry; I'm so, so sorry." With that pronouncement, she grasped the watch and yanked it open.

Blinding light enveloped her, and the pain of metamorphosis made her scream in agony. It was over in just an instant, but the pain of absence was so overwhelming that it took her a few seconds to understand that she was reacting to a different hurt. She was alone, so very, very alone, and she realized immediately what that meant.

"NO!" she screamed, understanding that it did no good to rage, but needing to none the less. "NO!"

As she sat in a heap on the floor, silent tears running down her face, her children were there in an instant, trying their best to comfort her, although they could not understand what was wrong. Her beautiful, precious, exceedingly fragile, quite human children. It was enough to make her despair, but for the fact that she could practically taste the wrongness of time, feel its strain as it tried to bend in ways it should not.

"Mom?" Matthew asked as she gripped both of them tighter, trying to draw strength for what she knew she must do.

"It's okay, Matt," she reassured him as she stood up to peer at them both. "It's going to be okay," she promised, not sure at all if she was telling the truth.

"What was the light thing, then?" he asked, still afraid.

She didn't answer. Instead, she told them, "I love you both; you two know that, don't you?"

"Yeah," Susan answered with a catch in her throat. Her mother did not usually evade their questions.

"I'm going to have to ask you to trust me. I promise I'm alright, better than I have been in a long time. But right now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?" She really hoped they could. Time was of the essence, and she couldn't afford to give them lengthy explanations.

The twins looked at each other for several long seconds before turning back to their mother. Susan answered for both of them. "We'll always trust you."

"Thank you." she answered, more relieved than she cared to admit. Kissing each of them quickly on the forehead, she sat down at her computer and began to frantically search the Internet. Finding what she needed, she picked up the phone and dialed the number as she stalked into her bedroom.

"General Haverson, please," she responded as the person on the other end answered the line. "No, I don't want to leave a message. You need to get him now. Tell him it's in reference to a Code Nine situation."

"Yes, I'll hold."

Impatient after a few seconds, she started to rifle through her drawers, clearly looking for something, but not finding it.

Susan watched her mother pace in her room, obviously unhappy with the wait. She was also searching for something. In a moment of inspiration, she ran back to Matthew's room and searched the backpack. Finding the key, she rushed out of the room, only to be stopped by her brother in the hallway.

"Let me go, Matt. Mom's looking for this."

"What's that going to do to her?" He was scared and feeling more than a little guilty.

"I don't know, but I know she's looking for it." Seeing that her brother wasn't going to let her pass, she went on the offensive. "You should have told the Doctor. Uncle Brad told us to tell him, and now he's not even here to deal with it."

"But what did it do?"

"No idea, but we promised to trust Mama, and I'm going to keep my promise, so let me go." She stepped around him, glad that he had finally given way.

Reaching the bedroom, she held up the key. Melissa gave her a thankful smile and a peck on the cheek as she grabbed it out of her hand.

"General Haverson," she said, once again all business as her wait ended. "My name is Melissa Morgan; under authorization two, nine, Bravo, Charlie, six, Alpha, Alpha, five, four, Beta, I'm ordering requisition of an SR-71 to be fueled and ready for take-off from Peterson Air Force Base within one hour, destination, London."

She listened for several seconds before putting some steel in her voice and ending the general's tirade. "No, sir, you listen to me. You know very well where that authorization comes from. My requisition was not a request. Now move, General." With that, she ended the call, sure that the military official would do as she had said.

Turning to her daughter, she spoke urgently. "Get your passports and birth certificates. Pack a backpack with whatever mementos you want to bring; we're probably not coming back. I'm taking you to the airport in twenty minutes."

Pausing, she frowned for a moment. "Sue, there are Christmas presents for you two downstairs in the safe room. I finally got you and your brother those IPods you wanted. You can bring them with you, if you want."

"But, Mom, where are we going?" she finally asked as her mother found her old pair of hiking boots and started lacing them up.

"Wales, Susan, you're going to Wales." Seeing the look of confusion on her daughter's face, she added, "I'll meet you there as soon as I can. You'll be staying at the Marriott in downtown Cardiff. Do not leave the hotel until I contact you, do you understand?"

Eyes wide, Susan nodded yes as her mother finished putting on her boots. Zipping up her Norwegian sweater, she gave her daughter a quick hug as she went looking for her son.

She found Matthew sitting glumly on his bed, hands propping up his chin. Giving him a hug, she tried to comfort him. "It's going to be okay, kiddo; I promise."

"What happened to you?" His eyes pleaded for an answer, and she sighed, knowing that she was going to have to tell him something.

"The watch contained some of my memories." Curious, she decided to ask, "Where'd you get it?"

"Uncle Brad put it in the backpack with a note saying to give it to the Doctor, that he'd know what to do with it. But I was angry because he also wrote Dad would be here, and he wasn't, so I kept it. I'm sorry."

Well, that raised as many questions as it answered, but she didn't have time to pursue it. Once again on the internet, this time with her credit card in hand, she began making reservations. "Matthew, I need you to look after Susan. I putting you two on a plane to Cardiff, Wales. Pack a backpack with anything you want to keep; you can buy new clothes later.

Frightened, he demanded, "Why are you sending us to Dad's?"

Angry that he had been reading the files Sarah Jane had sent, she snapped, "I told you to pack." Softening her tone, she added, "In this universe, he's your father in every way that counts, and he can protect you better than I can right now. I intend to meet you in Cardiff, but if I'm not there in two days, I want you and Susan to stand near a tall fountain outside the Millennium Center until you get noticed. Don't do anything else; just stand there. If Jack doesn't meet you, someone from an organization called Torchwood will. Show them your birth certificates and tell them you need help."

"Mom," he protested, now really scared.

"It's going to be fine," she promised. "I just need to take care of something before I meet you."

"Something dangerous," he commented sullenly as he stuffed his GPS in his backpack.

"I hope not. You've got ten minutes, so get a move on." Giving him a hug, she raced to the den and began to hastily burn all the information on Jack and Torchwood that Sarah Jane had managed to send her. It would not do for UNIT to find it in the house.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dropping them off at the airport forty-five minutes later, she turned the car towards Peterson and the SR-71. It took longer for the pre-flight check than the flight to London. The Heathrow runway hadn't quite been long enough, but any landing she could walk away from she counted as successful.

There was a car from UNIT waiting to drive her to the Thames Flood Barrier. The ride went quickly since the city was under a curfew and it was now the middle of the night. She tried not to think too much on what she would find. She knew with absolute certainty of that empty spot in her head that there was no hope, but she couldn't help it. He had cheated death so many times, and there was the whole question of the two divergent timelines in her mind. Still, she tried to prepare herself for the worst.

The worst was an unorganized chaos of UNIT personnel at the scene. It took her several minutes to find the person in charge, a Colonel Mace, and report to him. "Colonel Mace, Melissa Morgan, what's the situation?"

The Colonel studied her for a minute, taking in the hiking boots, blue jeans and Norwegian sweater without comment. "Ms. Morgan, the situation is we don't know what the situation is. You were the one to call in the Code Nine, but there has been no sign of the Doctor, or his TARDIS. Granted, this invasion would be something I'm sure he would be in the middle of were he here, but, Ma'am, he isn't."

She looked at the Thames for a moment, giving herself time to access her memories and decide on a plan of action. "Do you know the source of the Thames drainage?"

Colonel Mace looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Actually, we haven't pinpointed that yet. We've only been on the scene for a few hours, and finally got all the civilians out of the area in the last ninety minutes.

She looked him in the eye, and using every bit of authority she could muster, gave her first order. "You need to look for a defunct Torchwood I laboratory under the H.C. Clements office building. They were trying to drill a hole to the core of the Earth; the alien succeeded. I think you'll find your river there.

Nonplussed, the Colonel merely nodded. Turning away, he began delivering sharp orders to his subordinates. She watched him wearily for a moment before pulling out her phone.

They found the Doctor an hour later. It was apparent from his injuries that he not exited the building quickly enough to escape the flood, but whether he had ultimately drowned or had perished from the wound to his head was something only an autopsy could prove. It hardly mattered in the end, and Melissa was determined that his body would not suffer another indignity.

Stoically, she watched the UNIT soldiers lay him on the ground near the river. They had not expected to find him , so no one had ordered transportation. They were running around like chickens with their heads cut off at the moment, and she was thankful. Dismissing a private standing watch, she sat quietly stroking the Doctor's wet, too cold cheek, tears running down her face.

This was wrong; the whole damn world was wrong, and yet she knew without a doubt that if she could not determine how it had occurred, then this new reality would overwrite the old, leaving her utterly alone. Sensing someone standing behind her, she stood to face him, her eyes dry, her expression impassive.

"You were right, Ms. Morgan, which begs the question; how did you know he would be here?" Colonel Mace stood rigidly at attention, awaiting an answer his chain of command demanded to know.

Ignoring the challenge, she asked a question of her own. "What is UNIT's intent, Colonel?" Her voice was ice cold, dripping with disdain.

Colonel Mace had the decency to appear uncomfortable when he answered. As if reading from a card, he stated, "The Doctor's body will be used to further scientific inquiry, Ms. Morgan. He was a valuable asset in life, and will be an even greater asset in death."

Stupid, stupid, stupid human, she wanted to shout, but simply gave him a curt nod. "I think you'll find that you're mistaken, Colonel Mace. The Doctor was first and foremost a friend of the planet Earth, and some people object strongly to how the current UNIT hierarchy is treating the body of one of its friends. The Brigadier should be at the command center shortly. Geneva is giving him full authority in this matter."

Mace almost asked her which Brigadier, but eyes widening in understanding, he remarked with as much aplomb as he could muster. "It will be an honor to meet Sir Alastair. One has heard tales, of course, but I'm sure they don't do the man justice. If you'll excuse me Ms. Morgan, I must continue with the search for the TARDIS, unless you happen to know where that is as well?"

She stared coldly at him until he briskly turned away. The TARDIS was most likely underneath a ridiculous amount of water, and UNIT would not be able to salvage it anytime soon. Walking with the corpsmen as they carried the body, she sank into the shadows as they approached the road. There were more people here, civilians included, and she did not want to be seen lest whoever engineered this was watching.

Standing in the dark, she saw the familiar form of Donna Noble, and was about to call out when the Doctor's companion turned. Well, that explained much. Miss Noble sported a Time Beetle on her back. Perhaps this whole mess would be easy to fix.

Taking a few steps forward, she stopped in shock as she saw Rose Tyler run towards Donna. Circling around to get a better view, she watched the two women speak. It was all too apparent that Donna had no clue what was going on, although she had somehow been drawn to the scene. Rose looked devastated, but pulled herself together fairly quickly. Interestingly enough, she could also see the Time Beetle on Donna's back.

As Donna turned, Rose took a step backwards, ready to jump to Pete's World, frantic to get back to her Torchwood and attempt to make sense of the nightmare in front of her. Before she could leave, however, she heard a voice quietly call her name. Whirling to confront whoever had called her, she was stunned at the sight before her.

"Melissa? Do you know what's happened? That woman, she told me the Doctor's dead, but that can't be true; I've spent so much time looking for him. I need him; we all need him." Confronted with a familiar face in such an unfamiliar situation, Rose began to panic.

Grabbing her by the arm, Melissa pulled Rose into the dark and started walking briskly away from the UNIT troops. "How are you here, Rose? You're definitely not supposed to be here. The last time I heard, you were stuck in another universe. You shouldn't be able to hop from one to another."

Rose abruptly halted to stare hopefully at her friend. "You've talked to the Doctor, then? Do you know where he is?"

"He's dead," she answered, her voice brittle with emotion. "Donna was right; he was killed tonight."

Doubled over in pain as the weight of her grief overwhelmed her, Rose sobbed uncontrollably. For an instant, Melissa watched with detachment, and then tears rolled down her face. Leading Rose to a nearby curb, she hugged the young woman tightly until they both could gain some measure of control.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I didn't mean to tell you like that. Things are complicated right now, and I'm having trouble making sense of it myself. You need to listen to me. Then, maybe between us we can figure out what's going on."

Wiping her eyes, Rose took a deep, cleansing breath and then steeled herself for whatever Melissa might tell her. "Yeah, I can do that. 'S what the Doctor would want after all."

Deciding to simplify the truth so Rose would not get caught up in her unnecessary tangent, Melissa began her tale. "The Doctor died tonight, defeating the Racnoss; only, he wasn't supposed to die. That woman you saw, Donna, Donna Noble, she was supposed to stop him from getting carried away, stop him from himself; only this time, she didn't. She didn't because of the creature on her back. It's called a Time Beetle, and it feeds on the energy of what might have been. Somehow, it attached itself to Donna and made her change one decision, one tiny, fateful decision that changed the course of the universe."

"The Doctor wasn't supposed to die?" Rose asked, holding onto the one fact that gave her a smidgen of hope.

"No, Rose, he wasn't. He came to the house a couple of years ago, and told me all about saving Donna Noble on her wedding day. Except, Donna wasn't the bride tonight. Although the Doctor saved the Earth from the Racnoss, no one was there who could save him. I guess, right now, that makes Donna Noble the most important woman in the world."

Donna was the key to everything. If they could just get Donna to somehow change her decision, again, then everything would be set right, and this timeline would vanish as if it had never been. For the first time tonight, Melissa let herself hope. With Rose by her side, how could she fail?

Clever Rose grasped the implications of that statement fairly quickly. "So you're saying this is like a do-over, yeah? It's already happened once; the Doctor didn't die; but this time something changed and Donna wasn't there to save him." Excited, she demanded particulars. "Okay, tell me everything you know about Donna Noble and how she ended up saving the Doctor on her wedding day; maybe we can change it back."

Melissa spoke to Rose about Donna for over twenty minutes. In the end, they both decided that it was likely the Doctor's latest companion had never taken a job with H.C. Clements. Rose thought that she might be able to test their theory at Torchwood considering the Dimension Jumper recorded time signatures as well.

Seriously impressed with Rose's technology, Melissa still had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Rose, you never said how you were able to get here, or why everyone needs the Doctor. You, I can understand, but you said we all need him."

Bleakly, Rose answered her. "The darkness is coming. The stars are going out; even the Void is dying. The walls between the universes are collapsing, and I've travelled for months trying to find him, because he's the only one who might have a chance to stop it."

Not good, not good at all. Bile rose in Melissa's throat as the implications of what Rose said sank in. Grabbing her friend's hands, she vowed, "Then we're going to get him back. You have to believe that, Rose, we're going to get him back."

Grinning for the first time that night, the blond woman answered, "'Course we're going to get him back. Just have to do some jiggery-pokery, yeah?"

"Rose, we're going to pull some stunts that will make jiggery-pokery look like child's play," she answered confidently. Sobering, she offered some words of advice. "We have to be careful, though. This timeline is already stretched thin. One wrong word, one event that doesn't go as it should, and reapers will be the least of our problems. Messing with a causal nexus is always tricky."

Shrewdly, Rose looked at the older woman and finally asked the question that had been bothering her since Melissa's appearance. "How do you know so much, then? How come you remember the Doctor living and nobody else?"

Calmly, Melissa looked at her human friend and lied. "I was inside the TARDIS when all this happened. The Doctor was taking me on a short trip as a Christmas present. She protected me from the change."

Mollified, Rose nodded as if she understood completely. "That's that, then. I've got to go, Control must be going spare; I'm way overdue. I'll check on Donna's timeline. When should I get back to you?"

"Give me a month. I should have some idea about how to fix this. Maybe even UNIT can help if they don't ask too many questions. We have to be careful." Standing up, she gave Rose a quick hug. "I'm sorry you had to walk in on this, but I can't tell you how much better I feel knowing you're helping too. Take care."

"You too. It'll be harder for you, walking the slow path, but I'll get started back home right away and then jump forward a month. Sound alright?"

"Perfect."

Stepping back into the shadows, Melissa watched Rose disappear in a ball of light. Tears once again threatening to spill, she took a cleansing breath and exercised her emotional control. Knowing she was never going to feel completely prepared, she dialed a number that had once been as familiar as her own. He answered on the third ring, and she gave him no time for questions.

"Jack, there's been a death. I need you to meet me in London near the Thames Flood Barrier as soon as you can. Please, do this for me."

Without waiting for a reply, she closed her mobile, and put it on silent. He would still be able to track it, but at least she wouldn't hear it ring as he no doubt tried calling her back to demand more information. Right now, it hurt too much to talk, even to him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He appeared as the last of UNIT was leaving. They had given up trying to find the TARDIS in the dark, and would return in the morning with better equipment. In their minds there was little reason to hurry. It wasn't as if the ship's owner would be claiming her.

Somber, Jack walked under the caution tape, looking past the UNIT grunts, hoping to find Melissa before he bumped into anyone with real authority. She was standing near the drained river, staring across the darkness, alone. As he approached her, he thought he saw her flinch, but it must have been a trick of the night, because by the time he was within touching distance, she was clinging to him, crying and shaking with grief.

Melissa felt Jack long before she saw him. Curious, she turned around to get a better look at him, and it was all she could do to stand her ground. Every sense in her body screamed wrong, and she finally understood how the Doctor could have run away on the Game Station all those years ago. Human, Fact, Time Agent, Torchwood-she loved him, had loved him long before the Bad Wolf had chosen him, so she forced herself to look at him once more.

She tried to give her mind an analogy, something it could relate to and cope with instead of shunning the man she loved. She remembered her solitary trip to the VA hospital a few months after Mark had died. She had been standing in the patients' garden, talking to a wounded friend of Mark's when a man with no arms, no legs, one eye, and a gaping, dripping wound on his face was wheeled into the yard for a bit of sunlight. She had felt sickened by the mere sight of him, but then quickly felt shame as she realized that this was once a physically fit, mentally sound human being who deserved her pity. When he had talked rationally to her, even joking a bit about his situation, she had been even more ashamed because she finally realized that for all his debilitating injuries, he still was a human being who didn't deserve her pity, just her respect.

Jack deserved so much more than that. As her mind accepted that, she no longer saw the Fact, the one who was all wrong; she saw only Jack, the man who had saved her; the man who loved her; the man whom she loved even now. As he reached her, she threw herself into his arms, sobbing.

The depth of Jack's own grief was intense, and Melissa could feel him shaking as he held her. He had spent over one hundred years waiting for his timeline to sync with the Time Lord's. An unwilling recruit to Torchwood, the majority of his long life had been devoted to keeping that organization away from the Doctor. As soon as he could, he had hijacked a piece of it and turned it into something he thought his friend might actually be proud of. All for naught; UNIT had confirmed the Doctor's death as he had sped towards London. He would never have the answers to his questions now.

Yet on this horrible night, he had also been given a reminder of much happier days. She was in his arms, quiet now, and as he calmed, he bent down to take her face in his hands and kiss her gently on the lips.

"Let me get you inside. You're freezing, and UNIT's not going to do anything more tonight." She stood her ground as he tried to lead her away. "There's nothing more you can do here, Melissa."

"What if there is?" She watched him closely, trying to gauge his reaction. He didn't believe in that possibility, she could tell, but there had also been a flash of irrational hope that had flared in his eyes.

As if an afterthought, she gazed into his eyes and asked, "Jack, do you trust me?"

"You know the answer to that," he responded automatically, still trying to lead her away.

"Then give me your TARDIS key."

He stopped abruptly. "Why?"

"You said you trusted me."

He stood without looking at her long enough that she worried he had changed his mind. Maybe he did not trust her as much as she hoped. He had almost shot her when she had gone looking for him the first time. After a few seconds of indecision, he slowly reached into his pocket and handed her the key without voicing a single question.

Touched by his faith, she gave him a brief smile before bringing out the key to her own long dead TARDIS. Putting the two together, she pulled the Doctor's sonic screwdriver out of her back pocket and pressed it against the keys. As they glowed and flashed in her hand, she ignored Jack's questions and began to reach deep within herself to call the Doctor's ship.

Just as she thought her mind would be unable to reach the grieving ship and she would have to withdraw, she felt a stab of agony, then resigned acceptance. As the TARDIS slowly materialized around them, Melissa fought to maintain the brief connection. The ship understood the dangers and possibilities as well as she, perhaps more. She even reacted better to Jack's presence better than the Time Lord had ever expected. Maybe stabilizing the timeline would also be easier than she had anticipated.

Brutally pushing that naïve thought aside, she ran around the console flipping switches and pushing buttons. Finally looking up when the TARDIS was safely drifting in the Vortex, she cursed inwardly as she watched Jack place himself opposite her, the console acting as a barrier between them. Whatever trust he had in her was completely gone.

"Mind telling me how you learned to do that?"

"The Doctor gave me flying lessons," she answered somewhat truthfully. Well, he had given her lessons, it was just much longer ago than Jack would assume.

"So, you what, abandoned your kids and started travelling with him after Canary Wharf?" He didn't know what the hell was going on, but he knew it was time for some answers.

"Susan and Matthew are on their way to Cardiff. I would never abandon them." The strain of communicating with a grieving TARDIS that was not her own was beginning to take its toll. Melissa's hands began to shake and she placed them casually on the console, the better to hide her discomfort.

"Mind telling me how you knew I was in Cardiff, or how you knew my phone number? Not that I don't appreciate the trip down memory lane, but you picked a hell of a day to show up." Perhaps deciding that she posed no physical threat, he moved closer to her, the console still separating them.

"I remembered your number, Jack. How could I not? I've lived this day before, except the Doctor lived." Her hands were gripping the rail now as she fought with the TARDIS. The ship so desperately wanted a new bond, but Melissa could not grant her that wish. Once time reset, the TARDIS would revert to the original bond, and where would that leave her?

"What do you mean; you've lived this day before?" Suspicion and hope warred on his face as he took another step closer.

"This isn't supposed to happen. There's a Time Beetle on his companion's back. It's changed something, something very trivial, and now the whole world's going to suffer the consequences." Her hearts were hammering as the TARDIS finally accepted the limitations she had put upon her. Weak-kneed, she gripped the console even tighter.

One look at Jack's face gave her an inkling of hope. He might not trust her, but it did look like he was beginning to believe her. "Check your Vortex Manipulator; surely it works enough to pick up the divergent timeline?"

Pressing a few buttons, Jack stared at his wrist computer in disbelief. "If this is an alternate timeline, why aren't you affected?" he asked suspiciously.

"I was in the TARDIS." She lied as she had to Rose. "The ship protected me from the new reality."

He slowly nodded, although she could see he still had questions and doubt. He took another step closer to her. "I want to believe you, but there's something you're not telling me, isn't there?"

Quickly recovering from her argument with the TARDIS, Melissa stood a little straighter. "The Time Beetle's not too bright; it is an insect, after all. While it has managed to alter the timeline, it doesn't have the intelligence to ensure that this version of reality remains stable. We need to go back into Earth's past and fix a few things, or none of us will live long enough to change Donna's history.

"And you know when and where we need to go." The disbelief was back in his voice, along with some outright hostility.

Wincing at his tone of voice, she merely nodded. Making a decision, she took the final step towards him. "Please, Jack, I need your help. The Doctor needs your help."

He studied her face. She was exactly as he remembered, except this time there was no laughter in her eyes. He never could say no to her for very long. "You're hiding something from me, Melissa. I know that much, but I can't refuse to help you, not when you're giving me the only bit of hope I've had in a long, long time."

Impulsively, she grabbed his hand. "Thank you, Jack. I promise you won't regret it." "I'm going to the wardrobe room to find some clothes. Meet you back here in a few minutes."

Mutely, he watched her leave, wondering what she was hiding.


	28. Protecting the Timeline

Author's Notes - Recognizable parts of the chapter are taken from _The Fires of Pompeii, The Shakespeare Code, and Daleks in Manhatten_. I know it's long, but it would have taken longer for me to split it in two. Enjoy.

* * *

><p>When Melissa reappeared in the TARDIS console room ten minutes later, Jack looked at her in shock. He had expected her to find a dry pair of pants, not change her whole look. She was wearing black combat boots along with black utility pants that somehow managed to be form-fitting, but serviceable. The dark green blouse with the plunging neckline was fitted in all the right places. The outfit was topped by a thin, black leather coat that hit her at mid thigh. It was unbuttoned, but tied closed at her waist. Overall, he thought she managed to look both dangerous and sexy. It was rather disconcerting.<p>

Strangest of all, she was carrying two Super Soaker water pistols with extra water tanks. "Are we going after Slitheen, or something?" he asked not unreasonably.

Placing the huge water pistols on the jump seat, she quickly input the coordinates for their first destination. "Even easier, Pyroviles, you only need to shoot them with water. Why bother with vinegar?" Tossing Jack a gun, she checked the display. "We're in Pompeii itself. We just need to get to Vesuvius and blow it up."

"What?" Jack checked to make sure the Super Soaker worked, feeling more than a little stupid carrying it. He kept his gun as backup, and if Melissa noticed, she did not comment. Together they left the TARDIS and began walking away from the market towards the mountain.

Walking through the busy streets, she finally paused to answer his question. "It's Volcano Day, Jack. Only there isn't going t be an eruption without some assistance." Noticing that he continued to look incredulous, she impatiently asked, "Don't tell me you're already here. Are you, Jack? We don't need Reapers on top of giant rock constructs."

Pulling himself together, he responded coolly. "No, I never used Vesuvius as a con, too many other volcanoes to exploit with a lot less casualties."

As they continued to walk silently towards the distant, smoking mountain, Jack regarded her shrewdly. "You seem confident," he accused in that mockingly sarcastic tone of voice he did so well.

"That's the nice thing about meeting all of the Doctor's companions; I've heard all the stories, so we can cheat. It shouldn't be too difficult since I already know what needs to be done." Ignoring his tone, she smiled brightly at him, hoping he would just drop the entire discussion.

Stepping deftly in front of her, he effectively cornered her against one of the buildings along the narrow street. "That isn't what I meant, and you know it. It's been a long time for me, Sweetheart, but not long enough to think that you've ever been this callous. This is Pompeii, and you've just told me that we're going to kill almost everyone in this city and several others, and you're acting like it doesn't mean a thing."

Angry at the delay, she glared at him, momentarily wondering if it had been indulgence on her part to call him in the first place. "This is fixed, Jack. It's always been fixed. Even the Doctor accepted that at the end, so why can't you?"

"I have no problem accepting it. What I have a problem with is how easily you've accepted it." He had an insane desire to kiss that stormy look off of her face, but kept it tightly in check. He needed to understand how she could have changed so much.

"Nice double standard, Jack. I guess because I'm not a Time Agent, I'm supposed to feel guilty for blowing up Vesuvius? The Doctor's dead, in case you've forgotten, and if we don't do this, the entire human race will be enslaved by the twenty-first century, if it exists at all. I'm doing what needs to be done."

Ducking underneath his arm, she tried to stomp away from him, but he caught her tightly by the wrist. "Don't act like this," he pleaded harshly. "Look at these people, Melissa. They don't know this is some alternate reality. It's just as real to them as it is to us, and in a few hours they're going to die. Look at them!"

She looked, really looked, at the throngs of people passing them on the busy street. Men, women, and children, laughing and talking, arguing and haggling, living an ordinary, domestic life like the one she had lost such a long time ago. So many beautiful presents, so many potential futures. And no matter what the reason, she was going to snuff them all out, just as she had killed countless others during the War. As tears threatened to spill, she hated Jack for reminding her how much it hurt.

Wrenching her arm free, gave him a fierce stare, pain evident in her cracking voice. "Thanks, Jack. Now I have to kill all these people and feel horrible about it, too. I don't need you to be my conscience!"

Spinning around, she took off down the street, not caring at this point if he followed. Staring at her disappearing figure for a long minute, Jack wondered why he felt so bad for getting his point across. Keeping several yards back, he began to slowly follow her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Trying to calm down before she did something really reckless, Melissa put her water gun down to drink from a nearby fountain. Her mind was in too much turmoil to notice the women coming at her on three sides, and she was grabbed by three acolytes of the Sibylline Sisterhood, one of whom held a knife at her throat. She was dragged into the Temple of Sibyl as Jack watched from a distance in terrified fury, unable to do more than follow.

Hauled before the High Priestess, she was shoved to the ground, knife still at her throat. It was amazing what a little danger did to clear the mind. "Not exactly the hospitality I had been expecting, Sisters."

"Silence, Emissary," the lead acolyte commanded. "You have been brought before the Sisterhood because interference, even from servants of the Bad Wolf, will not be tolerated. Did you think that your arrival had not been foretold? We are the Sibylline Sisters, we see all."

Impatient, she retorted, "Sure, you see everything, except what's right in front of your stony faces." She got a nick from the knife for her sarcasm, not deep enough to cut a vein, but irritating nonetheless. She could feel the blood trickle down her neck and onto her coat and shirt.

"Insolence will not be tolerated. Even from a servant of a god, Emissary."

The voice of the High Priestess rasped from behind the curtain. "We seek only to survive."

"Your survival comes at too high of a price. You can't enslave the human race. You seek domination, not survival." The knife once again cut into her; this time deeper, and she wondered if Jack would ever make his move. At this rate, she would be cut to ribbons by the time he rescued her, if he hadn't already decided she wasn't worth the effort.

"Enough. If you will not join us, then you will die. Unlike the Immortal, you have no lives to spare." The head acolyte and six others dragged Melissa to the altar, binding her hands and feet. Struggling against the rope, she watched as the misguided woman brought the ceremonial, but very sharp, knife slowly towards her chest.

As a shot rang out and the dead seer toppled backwards, Jack jumped forward to take the knife out of her slack hands. The other Sisters backed warily away, unwilling to brave death, while the High Priestess wailed in anger. Quickly cutting Melissa free, he anxiously bent down to check her bloody neck.

Pushing his hands away, she sat up carefully and let him help her down. "Well that was almost a cliché," she remarked dryly, hoping he would give her some clue to his mood.

His response was lost in the rumble of three stone centurions bursting up through the hypocaust. "Jack, Super Soaker time!" she yelled as she ran back to the fountain to retrieve her own water gun.

Easily dispatching the three constructs, he raced to catch up, although she didn't stop once she grabbed her weapon. She continued at a runner's pace until they were outside the city limits some forty minutes later. Sitting on a rock, trying not to gasp as he caught his breath, Jack watched in concern as blood once again trickled down her neck.

"Let me," he offered as he gently pressed a handkerchief against her cuts.

"Who carries handkerchiefs these days?" she teased. She relaxed against him, however, grateful for the assistance.

"Someone who's learned the value of them." Taking the cloth off her neck, he was relieved to see the bleeding had stopped, but still he worried. If she pushed herself much harder, he was convinced that she would collapse well before they reached Vesuvius, and that would probably be his fault. A distraction was definitely in order, strictly for her own good.

Sensing he was about to kiss her, she stood up and grinned at him instead. "Break time's over, I'm afraid. We can't risk staying in one place too long. Those constructs might be stupid, but their creators are not. They might just send a dozen next time." Breaking into a jog, she waved at him to follow. Resigned, he did just that.

When they reached the base of the mountain, they warily approached an opening visible on the eastern side. As soon as they entered the wide passageway, however, they were surrounded by centurions of the human sort, and stripped of their water pistols. Then, their hands were tied tightly behind their backs. Only after they had been suitably subdued did the town augur, one Lucius Petrus Dextrus, step out of the shadow to smugly confront the prisoners. "Not even servants of the lesser gods can thwart the might of Vulcan. You will be fed into the flames for your insolence!"

Jack oozed charm as he smiled at the augur. "You've made a slight mistake. My friend and I were just getting some fresh air."

"Silence, Immortal! Do not try my patience. At least the Time Lord can hold her tongue! Perhaps I will cut yours out before I chain you to the pits of fire." The augur spat in Jack's face, but the former Time Agent could only stare in shock at the woman who looked like his wife, but who refused to meet his gaze.

"Melissa?"

When she did not answer, Jack tensed, fuming. He had been used and tricked, and could do nothing about it now. Whoever the imposter was, they were going to have to be on same side, at least until he got back to the TARDIS. No wonder she hadn't acted like Melissa. Damn the woman, if she was a woman; she still had his TARDIS key.

Knowing Jack was justifiably angry at her, she decided she had nothing more to lose. Shrugging her shoulders, she deliberately provoked the auger. "Don't misinterpret my lack of speech for any civility on my part, Lucius. I merely have nothing to say to you. I don't usually speak with underlings."

Enraged, the augur turned his attention towards her. "You dare call me an underling, Emissary? You, who have served the Bad Wolf long before you knew her identity? You, who failed to save your planet, and therefore failed to save the one you loved? You, who are merely a pawn, you dare call me an underling?"

Melissa used every trick she had ever learned to maintain an air of disinterest as the man ripped her to pieces. The Bad Wolf, no surprise there; she had known of their connection ever since her return to her proper universe. But how had she failed? Had she been a coward like that bastard and run away? Or had she lived as the result of some cosmic fluke? Why couldn't she remember? Why was she alive when even the Doctor had died? The empty place in her mind hurt like a fresh wound.

"You're still an underling, no matter what I am. I think it's time you take me to your leader."

She got several swift kicks to the stomach for her insolence. The lazy git had ordered one of the centurions to do it. Jack stood impassively, watching her struggle to her feet. Then, they were both pushed roughly forward, into the bowels of Vesuvius.

It was worse than she had feared; the circuitry was already complete. Spying the escape pod, she noted in relief that it was still possible to reconfigure the new software and cause enough feedback to blow the mountain sky high, but time was running out. As inspiration struck, she allowed herself to be pulled forward towards the pit of fire. If she could just concentrate—

Time stood still for all but her as every neuron in her brain protested against the strain. Walking calmly to one of the guards, she placed her bound hands against his drawn sword and cut the ropes. She accidently sliced her left palm, however, and as the pulse of intense pain reached her brain, everyone in the room moved for a millisecond before stopping again. Hurrying, she took the sword and cut Jack's bindings with much more care. Grabbing his arm, she increased her concentration until he began to move.

"What the hell?"

"Move, Jack. I'll explain later. We need to get to that escape pod over there." Sweat was pouring from her body and she was trembling with exertion.

Carefully, they both walked towards the escape pod. Jack watched the entity who had taken Melissa's form with a feeling of unease. She (or was that it?) was beginning to stagger, and if he had thought her pale earlier, then she was almost white now. When she fell a few paces later, all hell broke loose. Pyroviles and humans were freed from whatever paralyzing effects she had managed, pursuing them with a vengeance. Knowing she was the key to him getting back to the TARDIS, he grabbed her arm, yanking her into the escape pod and locking the entrance.

She managed to stand in the tiny space and spent a few moments reconfiguring the circuits. She hesitated for a second, bile threatening to erupt from her stomach, but she viciously pushed her feelings for the people of Pompeii aside. The point was fixed, and there was no getting around it. "Done," she gasped, and pressed the button.

Jack felt a rumbling that went through his chest, and then the escape pod was airborne. The rush of flight was infectious, and he couldn't help but grin and give a shout as they flew through the night sky. Landing was rougher; they bounced and tumbled as the pod slowly rolled to a stop. Not bad, though, it hadn't even killed him.

It didn't seem to have done the imposter any good, though. She was dazed, blood welling from a nasty cut on her hand. Strangely, it still looked like Melissa; he thought that the alien's injuries would have rendered whatever perception filter she was using inert.

If the imposter was a Time Lord, why hadn't she revealed herself to Jack from the beginning? Did she think he wouldn't help unless someone familiar was asking? Picking her up solely to find the TARDIS, and definitely not because she looked strikingly like his wife, Jack opened the pod's hatch and stepped into hell.

Waking to the taste of ash in her mouth, she knew she had been successful. "Put me down," she demanded as the embers in the air stung her eyes and burned her lungs.

Not answering verbally, he complied, dropping her like a sack of potatoes. Luckily, she found her feet before the ground did, and stood unsteadily, trying to sense the location of the ship. The grief of the TARDIS was like a lighthouse beacon on a foggy night, and she used it to lead Jack to the center of town. It was hard going; most of the panicked mob was trying to get to the waterfront. They had to go against the flow of humanity on several occasions, pushing their way ever closer to their own safety.

Finally, they could see the ship. Just the sight of the blue police box was enough to give her the extra adrenaline she needed to surge ahead and unlock the door. Once Jack was on board, she slammed the door shut and flew the TARDIS into the Vortex.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sagging against the console, her hand and neck still dripping blood, she grinned at her companion. "Not bad, considering I'm out of practice, and they somehow managed to cheat. Although, at least your reputation for not staying dead gave the Sisterhood pause."

"Whoever you are, you can stop the charade. If what you say about the Time Beetle is true, I would have helped you without the deception. I will continue to help you if you will just show me your true form."

She looked at him in astonishment. She thought he was angry because she hadn't told him she was a Time Lord, not because he thought she was an imposter.

His voice harsher, he continued, "And I really don't appreciate watching someone who looks like my wife drip blood all over the console. If you're actually a Time Lord, which I doubt, you and the Doctor are certainly not cut from the same cloth. At least he wouldn't have exploited my feelings like you did."

Taking a step towards him, she held her hands out in a placating gesture. "Jack, it's me; I promise."

"Don't bother lying. Melissa wouldn't be able to do that little trick you did to freeze everyone." He stood his ground as she walked closer; he was not going to be intimidated by a manipulative stranger, Time Lord or not.

Reaching up to stroke his cheek, she quietly asked, "Then how do I remember this, Jack Harkness? Backed into a corner of the guest bedroom, lifetimes ago for you, you told me I was different. You whispered in my ear and said you were leaving in two days and that you couldn't give me forever, but you could give me the time you had left. I loved you before then, but I was yours the moment you said that."

Pulling away, his anger only increased, if that were possible. "So, you ripped a memory from my mind, too? What won't you do to get your way?"

Exasperated, she shot back, "You've worked for Torchwood for over a hundred years! I thought your mind would be a little more open to possibilities. Hell, you seem to take regeneration in stride, and you haven't even witnessed one. I am Melissa Morgan, you stupid ape! I have been Melissa Morgan for thirty-five years, locked into a human body, a human existence, with human memories and human weaknesses. I even have completely human children whom I'll have the pleasure of watching die of old age long before I look older than this! I don't know why I bothered to call you! I can handle this on my own!"

Turning back to the console, she angrily input the coordinates for Cardiff. Her emotional outburst had ruined the minimal control she had been maintaining over her body, and before she could engage the time rotor, blood began to well up from her injured hand. She stared at it, too upset to do anything about it. She could feel the steady dripping of blood from her neck, and despairingly realized that the acolyte's second cut had been much deeper than she thought. She would have to do something about her injuries before they became more than a simple distraction.

Looking up to tell Jack his trip home would have to wait a while, she was surprised to find him standing next to her, genuine concern written on his face. Her anger suddenly evaporated, leaving only exhaustion and grief.

"I'll get you back to Cardiff as soon as I go to the infirmary. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to cause you any more pain."

Leaving, she was taken aback when he followed her down the hall. "Hand and neck are easier to bandage if someone else does it." He shrugged, as if that explained his continued presence.

"Thanks." She dropped wearily into the chair, tearing up only a little as she felt its twisted metal arms.

Removing her coat, she sat impassively as he gently cleaned and bandaged the cuts on her neck. His touch was clinical, coolly professional, and his aloofness stung more than the antiseptic he insisted on pouring on her wounds. Finished with her neck, he turned his attention to her hand.

"It's sliced through the tendon. You won't be able to move your thumb unless you get to a hospital."

"Just wrap it. I don't have time to spare right now." He hesitated a moment, then complied, expertly wrapping a bandage around her hand tightly enough to stop the bleeding, but not so tightly that it cut off the circulation.

Intending to stand up, she was stopped by his hand on her shoulder. "Take off your top. You're covered in blood and I want to make sure you don't have any other cuts."

"I don't," she protested, but quickly unbuttoned her shirt with her good hand.

He stood behind her, unmoving, peering at her scars. Without comment, he went to the sink and filled a large bowl with clean, warm water. Kneeling, he carefully wiped away the dried blood with a washcloth, beginning with her back. When he moved to her chest, she stared straight ahead, not wishing to make eye contact. She was startled when he dropped the washcloth into the now crimson bowl to place his right hand on her breastbone. Her eyes snapped to his.

"May I?"

She nodded, not sure she could trust her voice, and turned away to count the tiles on the ceiling. Hesitantly, he rested his left hand on the left side of her chest, feeling the steady beating of that heart, and then slowly moved his hand to the right side of her chest to feel the beating of her other heart. Still feeling the staccato rhythm of her double pulse, he began to caress her cheek with his right hand.

Shocked, her eyes once again found his. "You have to admit, it's a lot to take in," he told her in a voice full of gentle irony.

Leaning into his caress, her mouth melted against his. She allowed herself to be lost in the feelings of acceptance until he inadvertently pressed against her stomach. She gasped in agony, pulling away.

"Shit, I forgot! Are you okay? Lie down and let me check."

She waved off his concern. Standing up, she did her best to reassure him. "I'm fine; it's just a deep bruise. We need to get going anyway; time's running out."

Her assurances didn't fool him; her eyes were so filled with pain that it was all he could do to meet her gaze. "It wasn't your fault. Like you said, it was a fixed point."

"They're still dead because of me," she responded bitterly. Turning away from him, she forced herself to sound cheerful. "How'd you like to meet William Shakespeare?"

Still not liking her pallor, and not quite trusting that she had no internal injuries, he argued with her. "It's a time machine, and we're in the Vortex. We have all the time in the world, and you look like you could use some rest."

Sighing heavily, she turned to face him, "Time's still passing for us, and the TARDIS." Reluctantly, she added, "She's dying, Jack. I can't help her, and the longer we wait, the greater the chance that we'll be stuck somewhere we don't want to be. She understands the stakes as well as we do, and she's giving us everything she can, but we need to hurry."

He staggered at the thought. Oh, he had always known the ship was sentient, that she had feelings, and that she and the Doctor communicated on a level he never quite understood. To realize that they had been linked so deeply, however, made his grief rise to the surface yet again. Blinking back tears, he followed Melissa to the wardrobe room where she found a duplicate outfit waiting for her.

Briefing Jack as she quickly changed, Melissa tried to remember everything Martha and the Doctor had told her about their run-in with the Carrionites. She hoped they had not glossed over as much of that story as Donna and he had about Pompeii. It would have been nice to know that their adversary would know exactly who they were. It had been a shock to be recognized as a Time Lord, and an even greater shock to be addressed as the Emissary.

Ignoring the nausea from her sore stomach, Melissa led Jack into the armory.

"I didn't even know this was here," he remarked in wonder as he chose a dirk from the appropriate period to slip into his boot. "So, Shakespeare and witches, huh? Sounds like my type of fun."

Reluctantly putting down a can of Nitro Nine, Melissa cautioned, "Just remember; these are ancient, powerful beings who use words as weapons. It took the Eternals to banish them in the first place, so don't get cocky, Jack." Realizing she had given him the perfect opening, she added quickly, "And no comments about my last comment, okay?"

He gave her a mischievous look that said 'who me?' and kissed her briefly. Watching her put a compact laser deluxe in her jacket pocket, he commented, "So, I take it the whole no weapons stance was a Doctor thing, and not a Time Lord thing?"

She took a moment to decide how to answer him. It felt like a betrayal to speak for the Doctor when he could not speak for himself, but if Rose and she were successful in changing the timeline, it would hardly matter. "He only used violence as the last option, Jack. There's a difference between not enjoying killing and not being able to kill. Believe me; when it was necessary he did what had to be done.

"You mean in the Time War."

Her eyes turned cold and again he witnessed the difference between Melissa as a human and Melissa as a Time Lord. The pain of centuries rang out in her answer. "We all became quite efficient killers in the Time War, and I really don't want to discuss it anymore. It's over and done with. Leave it in the past."

He nodded, knowing that he couldn't say anything to make her feel better. He should have realized that she would be just as prickly as the Doctor had been when talking about the loss of her people and planet. Following her out the armory and into the console room, he hoped meeting Shakespeare would snap her out of her dark mood.

Melissa, for her part, was scared. The Doctor had made his trip to Elizabethan England sound like a comical adventure, but she knew better now. Tales of Carrionites had been as plentiful on Gallifrey as tales of dragons on Earth, and their stories had been just as bloody and often fatal. She thought about telling Jack about the fast return switch, but knew if something were to happen to her, the TARDIS would most likely die instantly. Putting on a brave face, she stepped warily out of the ship, Jack following closely behind.

Pulling her out of the path of a runaway cart, he asked, "So what's the plan?"

"Plan? I thought you liked to wing it?" Asking directions to the theater, she made a right turn towards the Globe.

"That's when I'm in charge. When I'm following orders, I like to know the plan."

She stopped walking and grinned wickedly at him. "Why, Jack Harkness, I never thought you'd let me be dominant."

Her voice held a promise of such decadence that Jack instantly felt aroused. Reminding himself that they were on a deadline, he cleared his throat. "Much as I would like to explore that option, I think you were about to tell me your brilliant plan?"

Satisfied that she had gotten a reaction from him, she continued walking and became serious. "Easy plan. Find Shakespeare, and stick to him like glue. Destroy the spell before it can be spoken. Neutralize the witches and take their crystal ball; then one more hop and back to London."

"And if the Carrionites object?" He thought her plan was extremely close to "wing it" and again wondered if spontaneity was also a Time Lord trait. He kept that thought to himself, however.

"Unlike you, they don't come back to life when you kill them. We use whatever force necessary." Her voice was flat and invited no argument.

Her approval of deadly force concerned him slightly, but now was not the time for a philosophical discussion. "I can accept that." She winced slightly at his choice of words, but didn't comment.

Realizing that she might know more about his apparent immortality than he did, he tentatively asked, "Melissa, can you explain what happened? He left me, and I don't understand why."

She gripped his hand in sympathy. "I'll explain it as soon as I can. I promise. I can tell you right now that he was wrong, and that in the proper timeline, you've forgiven him and you two are good friends."

Recognizing that he was about to ask a follow-up, she broke into a jog. "Come on, slowpoke! If we hurry, we can see a play!"

_Love's Labour's Lost_ was fun to watch, even with the stench of humanity pressed against them. Melissa and Jack followed Shakespeare back to an inn where they found out he was much more flexible than most scholars had thought, much to Jack's delight. Yet he was determined to finish the play that night, even after the strange death of the Master of the Revels. Bidding the bard a good night, Jack slipped out into the dark to monitor the inn from across the street, while Melissa kept vigil in the hallway outside the common room.

She let the Carrionite use Shakespeare to finish the play, and stopped Ma Bailey from interrupting. When the witch was well and truly gone, she snuck quietly into the room. Tugging the play out from under the sleeping author, she rapidly scanned it for traces of a spell. Finding what she was looking for, she carefully tore the bottom of the page, and folding it into a tiny paper airplane, let it fly to Jack in the street below.

Picking up the fragment, he lit it with a match and watched in satisfaction as it burned. By the time it was a pile of blackened, smoldering ash, Melissa was in front of him, grinning wildly.

"I told you it was an easy plan!"

"I forgot that you're getting to cheat." Her grin was infectious, however, and he was soon smiling with her. "So, back to the TARDIS?"

Her smile vanished. "No, we're going to Hallow's Street. It's time to kill a few Carrionites."

As he stared at her mutely she began to feel uncomfortable. "What?"

"I'm sure they're completely evil and deserve killing, but aren't you going to offer them a choice?" He wasn't sure he liked her sudden ruthlessness, but tried to keep an open mind.

Infuriated that he would question her methods, she struggled to keep her voice even as she replied, "If this were a Torchwood operation that you were running, you wouldn't hesitate to shoot them. Why are you applying a different set of standards for me?"

"You're a Time Lord."

"Thanks for the reminder, Jack. I would have forgotten otherwise."

When her temper was once again under control, she took his hand and started walking slowly down the street. "I am a Time Lord. Right here, right now, I'm the last Time Lord in existence. It scares me to death. The silence in my head is so loud that I want to scream. I don't know how he coped with it for so long. I would do anything to get him back; can you understand that?" He squeezed her hand in sympathy as they continued walking.

"In the proper timeline, the Doctor and his companion managed to trap the Carrionites just as they were entering our plane of existence. I can't chance it; it's too big a risk considering how weak reality already is. So, the answer is no, I'm not going to give them the option of going home nicely, but don't think for a minute that I enjoy the killing."

He stopped walking and pulled her into a warm embrace. "I'm sorry. I would never think you enjoyed it. It's just the Melissa I remember was incapable of being ruthless."

"I think the Parflicans would disagree, Jack."

"That was different," he argued. "You were protecting Susan and Matthew."

"It's the same," she countered, "only on a larger scale. I'm protecting the Earth, and once reality's back to the way it was meant to be, I'll have no regrets."

"Like I said, I'm sorry. It just takes getting used to." He spun around and began to walk towards Hallow's Street once again.

Knowing that their argument had ended, but not necessarily been resolved, Melissa cursed silently as she jogged to catch up. Dwelling on their differences, neither noticed Shakespeare following discreetly behind them.

They stood staring at the witches' house for several minutes, each assessing the best way to complete the task. "Be easy to burn it down," Jack offered. "Isn't that what you do with witches?

She looked at him sharply. Was he testing her, or seriously considering torching the building? "Nice try, but that would cause a raging inferno; the fire of London was 1666, not 1599. Besides, we need to make sure they aren't holding anyone prisoner."

"Does this mean you have a plan?" he asked, pleased that she was not proposing wanton destruction.

"Of course I have a plan. We wing it."

After cautiously entering the front door, they cleared the first floor. Not a Carrionite was in sight. He was impressed with Melissa's level of proficiency. She held the weapon like a professional and moved through the dark house with the grace of a natural predator. Yet another difference to get used to, he thought as they crept up the stairs.

The witches were waiting for them on the second floor. There were three of them, and they called each other Mother, which reminded him uneasily of the Sibylline Sisterhood.

"Mother Dewfinger, I believe we have company," the oldest and most revolting of the witches cackled as she stirred a large cauldron of bubbling liquid.

"Mother Bloodtide, I do believe you are correct. And such company! They are both so young and will make tasty snacks."

No, this one's the most revolting, Jack decided as the witch walked towards them, although he'd slept with worse. Nervously, he glanced at Melissa, wondering why she hadn't shot them already.

The youngest witch circled around them, taunting as she came ever closer. "They are not so young, Mothers. Both have the smell of time and the Wolf about them.

The young witch studied Melissa for a moment, and then blinked in surprise. "You have been called so many things, and yet I cannot see your true name. You have given it freely to the Bad Wolf. Are you her killer or just another cowardly lion, I wonder?"

"Back off, Carrionite," Jack growled as Melissa blanched at the witch's words.

Hissing in pain, the three hags regrouped. "He knows our name. How can one such as he know our name?"

"It matters little. We shall soon know his, and then he will die." The oldest witch pointed her finger at Jack in outrage. "Your name, too, is hidden!"

Wanting to live up to Jack's expectations, Melissa offered, "Your words won't work on us, Carrionites. Surrender and we can take you where you can live in peace and do no harm."

The youngest witch wasn't impressed. "We may not be able to kill you with a word, little Time Lord, but we know what you are. We have killed your kind before, and will do so again today."

Digging into his boot, Jack decided it would be a good time to end the discussion. Running with the dirk outstretched, he plunged it into the heart of the ugliest hag.

"Jack, no! Don't let her touch you!" Melissa shouted as she finally acknowledged that she was more killer than coward and raised her disrupter, firing at the oldest hag, killing her instantly. Dismayed, she watched Jack fall lifeless to the floor as the dying witch pressed her hand over his heart.

In the confusion, the youngest Carrionite had disappeared. Scanning the room and finding it empty, Melissa ran to Jack. Bending over his dead body, she apologized. "I'm sorry, Jack. I should have warned you."

Suddenly, her head jerked back and her braid was hacked off with a sharp butcher's knife. The young hag wrapped some of Melissa's hair around a featureless doll. Sneering, she plunged a large pin into the doll's right hand. Gasping in pain, Melissa dropped the disruptor, which the Carrionite kicked away.

"You will die slowly for the pain you've caused me!" the witch promised as she twisted the pin into the doll's stomach and watched in satisfaction as Melissa doubled over. Momentarily released, she lay on the floor, panting, until the needle was once again plunged into the doll. Her right lung on fire, she struggled to breathe as she inched closer to the disruptor.

"Oh, I don't think you'll reach that," the hag cackled in glee. "I have another pin." She watched Melissa gasp uselessly for air for several minutes. As her struggles weakened and her lips turned blue, the hag abruptly pulled the pins out of the doll. Melissa shakily rose to her feet, still hoping to reach the disruptor.

"I tire of this game. Know as you die that you have failed this planet. The Carrionites will rise!" With that, the hag pushed both pins through the doll's chest, and Melissa fell to the ground.

Several things happened simultaneously. From behind the hag, a voice bellowed, "I see you witch!"

Surprised, the alien turned to confront William Shakespeare. "Well, if it isn't the genius. I'd kill you now, but they might cancel the play. You'll just have to wait your turn." She began to pull out his doll from her pocket.

The distraction proved deadly, however. Jack, who had gasped back to life only to see Melissa lying unmoving on the floor, yanked his dirk out of the dead hag and threw it at the remaining live one. His aim was strong and true, and the sharp blade buried itself into the Carrionite's neck. The witch barely had enough time to register her surprise before she dropped to the floor, very dead.

Shakespeare stared in sympathy at Jack, who had rushed to Melissa's side to try to find a pulse. "Your lady's pallor is one of death, I fear, good Captain."

"Not now, Shakespeare!"

Urgently, Jack began chest compressions on Melissa's hearts, first on the right and then on the left. When she did not respond, he bent over and blew air into her lungs, then continued trying to restart her hearts. Nothing worked, and he was about to give up when he spied the doll with her hair still wrapped around it. Grabbing it, he jerked out the pins, throwing the doll back to the ground. Nothing happened, and with a sob, he started chest compressions one last time.

"Yes!" he whispered as he felt both hearts beating. Pressing his mouth on hers, he continued to breathe for her, trying to remain hopeful.

Sputtering, Melissa weakly tried to roll away from whatever was trying to smother her. Strong hands gently sat her up, and as she concentrated on breathing, she finally realized whom she was resting against. Guilt overwhelmed her. "I'm sorry, Jack. I hesitated and got you killed. I'm useless."

"Is this witchcraft that the dead may speak, or are you a shade, fair Lady?" exclaimed the other man in the room.

Ignoring Shakespeare, Jack reassured her. "No you're not."

"I am," she protested. "I should have just shot them in the first place."

Helping her stand, he assured her, "You had to give them a chance. I know you're no murderer."

"Jack, you have no idea the things I've done." And she hoped he never would find out.

He might have said something, but they were interrupted by the bard.

"Wait!" Shakespeare shouted, demanding their attention. "Witches I can scarcely comprehend. But I must know, sir, what manner of man are you, who can breathe life into the dead?"

Jack grinned and kissed the playwright soundly on the lips. "One I'm sure you'd enjoy getting to know better, if we just had the time. Goodbye, Shakespeare."

Rolling her eyes at Jack's antics, Melissa added, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Shakespeare, than are dreamt in your philosophy."

"Intriguing words, my Lady. Fare well to you both then, I must get back to the Globe. _Love's Labour's Won_ will be performed tomorrow." Deep in thought, William Shakespeare reluctantly left the mysterious couple.

Walking back to the TARDIS, Jack tried to lighten Melissa's somber mood. "Well, he may be a genius, but Shakespeare has horrible breath."

She raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't comment. A few minutes later when she was still trudging down the street paying no heed to her surroundings, he decided to break the silence with a question.

"So, _Love's Labour's Won_? If it survives, how badly will it affect this timeline?"

Wearily, she stopped and faced him. Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply and extended her senses as far as she could. Finished, she fought dizziness and slowly opened her eyes. "Negligible. It's just an extra play, and isn't one of his best—sequels rarely are."

"You can see that?" he asked, amazed.

Once again walking to the TARDIS, she answered shortly. "Yes. I can see all that is, all that was and all that can be, although I don't like to look into future possibilities that closely."

He knew better than to ask why not, and followed her silently back to the TARDIS.

A she walked into the TARDIS, she tried not to let the ship's emotions overwhelm her own. The old girl was fading fast, and she hurried to input the coordinates for New York. Finished for the moment, she leaned heavily against the console, wishing she had time to rest. The Carrionite's attack had left her weak, exhausted and questioning her own competency. Worse, she wasn't sure she could face what was coming.

Before she could engage the Time Rotor, Jack put his hand on her shoulder. "Maybe I should go alone wherever we're going next. I'm not even sure how you're functioning after all that, and you haven't slept or eaten in at least two days. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Touched that he still cared about her, she gave a lighthearted reply. "Time Lord, remember? I'll be fine."

Frustrated, he argued, "You don't look fine." He brushed his fingers through the ends of her hacked hair, and noticed blood stains on the bandages on her neck. He wondered how much more she could take.

All of her anxiety about the Daleks poured into her words and she lost her temper. "Don't baby me, Jack! I can handle myself, and I am not going to let you face those monsters alone!"

Angry now, he roared. "What monsters? You haven't even told me where we're going! What can be worse than those Carrionites we just got rid of?"

Her anger draining away to be replaced by anxiety, she answered in weary resignation. "Daleks, we're going to fight Daleks."

Instantly understanding, he put his arms around her. "We need to find some better weapons in the armory.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Walking in downtown New York was always exciting, even in the middle of the Great Depression, even when hunting Daleks. However, after a day of searching, they hadn't found any evidence of the Daleks' presence. Hooverville in Central Park was depressing, but no one remembered people going missing or a man named Solomon. Walking through the sewers, they saw no evidence of pig slaves or dead mutant brains, or anything much besides rats and refuse. It was making them decidedly uneasy.

"Could you have gotten the date wrong?" Jack asked as they debated searching all the theaters in Manhattan.

"No," she answered tiredly. "Martha found a newspaper when they arrived and she told me the date. This is the right time."

"Well, there's only one more place to check, then." He grinned as he pulled a huge weapon out of a shopping bag. "Let's go exterminate some tin cans."

She smiled in spite of herself at the image of Jack walking down the streets of New York with a huge atomic blaster in his hands. It was just what she needed to break the tension. "Put it away, Big Boy, wouldn't want anyone to get jealous of the size of that thing."

"Can't help the jealousy; I'm just that good," he teased, but put the blaster away.

"Yes, yes you are," she grinned. "Now be good and keep that out of sight while I use the psychic paper to talk our way to the top."

"Yes ma'am."

However, when they arrived at eight o'clock that evening, there was no one on duty at the Empire State Building to impress with the psychic paper. Yet the front doors were unlocked and the lights were on. Apprehensively, they walked into the elevator to meet the Cult of Skaro.

"So, I'm thinking trap," Jack mentioned conversationally as they slowly ascended.

"Definitely a trap. Wonder how they figured it out?" Melissa replied in the same casual tone.

"Could be there was an informant in the camp." He watched the numbers slowly climb.

"That wouldn't be unusual. Daleks always seem to be able to find humans willing to work for them—the idiots." Jack glanced sharply at her, not sure whether she meant the humans or Daleks were the idiots. Probably both, he decided as the elevator finally reached the right floor and the doors slowly opened.

Cautiously, they walked out into the empty floor. "Well this is unexpected," Jack commented as they began to clear the empty rooms and dark hallways.

Behind them, something started laughing in a high-pitched, not quite sane tone. The laughter continued as they slowly made their way room by room through the empty offices.

"What the hell is that?" Jack whispered after a particularly long period of the nerve-chilling sound.

"I think we're about to find out," she whispered back as she noticed the faint outline of light coming from under the door of an office at the far corner of the hallway.

Instantly taking the lead, he pushed the door open, weapon ready. Melissa followed, the Doctor's screwdriver in hand. Both were shocked into inaction at the sight in front of them. In the center of the room stood a Dalek, casing melted open, the writhing creature inside exposed.

Sickened at the sight, it took all of her control not to gag as she watched the creature in horrified fascination. After a second, Jack's Time Agency reflexes kicked in, and he swept the rest of the room, looking for any additional threats before he aimed his blaster directly at the Dalek.

Not taking her eyes off the abnormal creature, Melissa commanded, "Put the gun down, Jack."

Very reluctantly, he lowered the blaster, but kept it in his hands. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

Unexpectedly, it was the Dalek who responded in a sing-song voice. "I protect the timeline. No insect shall interfere."

Finding her courage, she demanded, "Why?"

"The darkness is coming, Emissary."

Hearts thudding, she struggled to hide her panic. Bad enough that Rose had appeared with tales of universes collapsing and a dead Void, now a crazed Dalek was mentioning the darkness as well. Cautiously, she began to back away, never once moving her eyes from the thing giggling in front of her.

"Melissa?"

For once, Jack felt out of his element. Shooting Daleks was no problem for him, but talking to them was another matter. Of course, most of the Daleks he had previously encountered, save the Emperor, had been somewhat single-minded in their determination to exterminate, and none had giggled maniacally. In fact, the laughter now was very unnerving.

"We're leaving," she replied decisively as she continued to back up.

Intense laughter froze her to the spot. "You can run, but you cannot escape your destiny."

"Okay," Jack drawled, "this is getting weird." He, too, began to back away.

Suddenly, the Dalek turned his attention to the Captain. "Everlasting death to the Doctor's most faithful companion!"

"That's enough, Dalek!" Melissa was scared now. Although she didn't understand the gibberish coming out of its mouth, the last had sounded too much like a threat against Jack, and she didn't like it one bit.

Her command only made the Dalek giggle. "It is never enough, Emissary. The lock is broken; you must soon enter."

"Great, just great," Jack fumed as he continued to retreat. "We found an insane Dalek that's talking like a fortune cookie, and I'm not supposed to kill it."

Having heard more than enough, Melissa backed away more quickly, not pausing until she had reached the stairwell. Following closely behind, Jack stopped her before they reached the floor below.

"What the hell was that?"

Every instinct screamed to run as fast as she could, but she took time to answer truthfully. "I have no idea. Since the crazy monster is actually protecting the timeline, I'm getting out of Dodge."

"You trust that thing?" Jack asked incredulously, deeply disturbed by the encounter.

"No, but Daleks don't lie." Head starting to pound, she focused on getting down the stairs.

"Even crazy Daleks?" Jack didn't share her confidence, although he was just as eager to leave.

Racing down the steps two at a time, she admitted, "That's the first insane Dalek I've ever met, so I can't be one hundred percent sure, but we didn't find any other evidence of Dalek activity, so I'm inclined to believe it."

Grasping the rail as the pounding in her head became an incredibly sharp pain, she added, "It's a moot point now. The TARDIS is failing; we need to hurry." Leading him out of the stairwell, she punched the call button for the elevator and struggled to stay upright.

He watched her in growing concern as they raced down streets and across traffic to reach the ship. She was running well enough, but her jaw was clenched in pain. By the time she reached the TARDIS, her hands were unsteady, so much so that Jack had to take the key and unlock the door. Not pausing for explanations, she input the coordinates for the present and curled up into a tight ball, trying not to scream as the TARDIS made its final, bumpy trip through the Vortex.


	29. UNIT

Author's Notes - I hurried to post the last chapter so quickly that I forgot to thank LadyoftheDrow and Mary Mathesen for their reviews. It's always nice to hear people are enjoying this (and constructive to read when they're not).

* * *

><p>By the time the ship landed, the lights were beginning to dim. Melissa pulled herself up and checked the monitor. They were underwater, probably in the same spot the TARDIS had been sitting when she had called the ship earlier in the evening. Sniffing back tears, she told him, "We're back just minutes after we left; the old girl really did her best by us."<p>

"Yes, she did," he agreed softly, mourning yet another loss. Putting his hands out to give her a hug, he was surprised when she backed away.

"Hold out your arm; we need a way off the TARDIS, Jack." If she didn't hurry, the empathy she felt for the TARDIS would overwhelm her, dragging her down in the ship's death throes. She desperately needed to put distance between herself and the ship. As he patiently held out his arm, she used the sonic screwdriver to fix his Vortex Manipulator, and inputting coordinates, activated the teleport.

His teleport violently ejected them near the Thames flood barrier, and Jack cracked his back as he straightened. Melissa had not managed to remain upright, and was lying dazed on the ground as the terrible pain in her mind slowly receded.

"Take it easy," he admonished as she tried to sit up.

"I'm perfect," she reassured him as she stood shakily. "The TARDIS was trying to link with me at the end. It was a little uncomfortable."

"That must be the understatement of the year." He walked with her away from the dry river. "Come on, my car's that way. We'll check into a hotel and get some sleep. The rest can wait until morning."

"I told Sir Alistair that I'd meet him at UNIT headquarters as soon as I could. We need to go to the Tower." Seeing he was about to refuse, she added, "I don't trust anyone but the Brigadier with his body, and I'm not going to rest until I know everything is being taken care of. Please, Jack."

Knowing that she would simply find a way to go without him if he said no, he reluctantly agreed.

xxxxxxxxxxx

The trip to the Tower was made in absolute silence, each too wrapped up in their own thoughts to engage in idle conversation. Melissa worried about Susan and Matthew; they were in flight at the moment or she would have attempted to call. Jack wondered about the woman sitting next to him. She still hadn't explained how she had been trapped in a human body for the past thirty plus years, and he wondered just how alien she was now. Did she still care for him in the same way? Or was he just another stupid ape?

Pulling through to the Tower courtyard, he haphazardly parked the car. A tired and grumpy Beefeater was waiting to escort them through the armory to the secret entrance of UNIT headquarters. Once underground, a UNIT lieutenant met them in the reception area, snapping a crisp salute at both of them.

"Well that's a first," Jack commented quietly as the nervous lieutenant escorted them to the conference room outside of the Brigadier's temporary office.

"I imagine there'll be many firsts tonight, Jack," Melissa whispered back as they sat down at the table to wait.

Shrugging, he scanned the room and noticed that refreshments had been placed on the credenza next to the conference table. Filling a small plate full of biscuits and grapes, he placed it in front of her. "It's not the most well balanced meal, but you need to eat something. You haven't eaten anything in days. At least I had a few hot dogs in New York."

"From a questionable street vendor. Don't blame me if you end up dying of E. coli or worse." She stared at the plate, stomach churning at the thought of eating. After a few moments, she looked up and noticed he was still watching her. Defensive, she made excuses. "I'm not hungry. Don't worry; I can go quite a while without food. I'll eat later."

If she was anything like the Doctor, Jack knew that she would be able to function under extreme conditions much longer than any human. He also knew the price she would pay afterwards; he had seen the results often enough when travelling with his friend on the TARDIS. Deciding not to have an argument inside the heart of UNIT, he merely filled a glass with water and handed it to her. "Try to drink a little something, then."

She managed to choke down a few sips before pushing the glass away. Resigned, he picked up her plate and began eating the grapes. Before he could start on the chocolate biscuits, retired Brigadier Alistair Gordon Leftbridge-Stewart strode in, still carrying an air of authority for all his eighty plus years.

Jack rose from his seat, preparing to salute the Brigadier, but the man waved him back down. "No need for that, Captain. It's good to see you again, although I truly wish it were under better circumstances. I must say, however, that you look remarkable. You haven't aged at all since I first met you in the seventies. Never doubted you, of course, but seeing the evidence staring me in the face after all these years, well, it is quite extraordinary."

Jack grinned in understanding before Sir Alastair turned his attention to Melissa. "My dear, Sarah Jane has told me so much about you. I'm sorry you had to be the one to alert us to the Doctor's demise. I hope Colonel Mace did not interrogate you too harshly. The man can be tedious, but his loyalty to UNIT is absolute. I see that you were able to contact Captain Harkness; I'm glad that I was able to facilitate that in even a small way; although, I'm sure this was not the reunion you were hoping for.

Jack filed that information away for later contemplation. Had she been planning to contact him all along? As Leftbridge-Stewart sat down, the Captain took the lead.

"I don't know how much contact you've kept with UNIT over the years, but I know there are factions inside the organization that would consider this a perfect opportunity to test several hypotheses that have been floating around about the Doctor's biology since the late eighties. Neither one of us believe that to be acceptable. The Doctor deserves to be treated with dignity in death."

"No need to lecture me, Captain," the Brigadier assured him. "In this, you are preaching to the choir. I will not allow any tests to be run, samples to be taken, or an autopsy be performed. The Doctor will be treated as a fallen hero if it's the last thing I do. He has been my friend for many years and most of his regenerations."

Pausing, his tone became guarded. "While I have reluctantly been given authority over the Doctor's remains, I'm afraid my authority ends there. Ms. Morgan, I must warn you that your use of the Doctor's personal authorization code is being questioned at the highest levels. The money used to purchase your home came from the Doctor's own account; you have consistently refused to answer any questions about how you came to know the Doctor or what your relationship was to him. These facts, taken together, are raising some red flags within UNIT."

Looking decidedly apologetic, the Brigadier continued, "The bottom line, Ms. Morgan, is that in light of your actions today, you and your family have come under close scrutiny by UNIT, and I have no influence in this matter. Some have gone so far as to theorize that you may be an alien yourself, or that your children, well, that your children may be half Time Lord, if you understand my meaning."

Calmly addressing the Brigadier, Melissa commented, "It's Harkness, technically, Melissa Harkness. We didn't file the marriage certificate for obvious reasons.

As Jack tried not to react while attempting to read between the lines of that statement, the Brigadier looked at her shrewdly. "I see. Well, that would answer many questions, wouldn't it? Is the certificate at your house?" At her brief nod, he added, "Then it will be only a matter of time before they find it. In the meantime, might I suggest that Cardiff would be the best place for you and your children? I understand that UNIT is very reluctant to involve itself in that city, although I haven't the faintest idea why." Eyes twinkling, he gave Jack a long look.

"Susan and Matthew are on their way there even as we speak, Brigadier." Melissa wasn't surprised, just mildly disappointed. She had realized what her involvement might cost before she left Colorado. She had simply hoped that they would have been slower to raise certain questions.

"Good. I see you have anticipated every potential problem. If you would like, the lieutenant will escort you to the morgue. Captain Harkness and I will follow shortly." Wordlessly, she stood and allowed the lieutenant to lead her away.

As soon as she was out of the room, Jack turned to the Brigadier. "Now tell me what the real problem is, Alistair. Something's got you very worried; I can tell."

Sighing, the old man confirmed his suspicions. "I'm afraid UNIT isn't as honorable as it once was, Jack. You were both scanned as soon as you entered the building. The double heartbeat is a dead giveaway. I don't think she truly realizes the danger she or her children are in."

Pausing to let that statement sink in, he then added, "How human are her children?"

Jack responded immediately. "One hundred percent."

Still concerned, Leftbridge-Stewart asked, "And is the father anyone UNIT could get their hands on?"

Grinning unpleasantly, Jack answered, "I don't think they'll go so far as to try that. I'm their father." Which was true enough, Jack thought as he decided to tell the Brigadier only what he needed to know. He was sure the significance of his name would be flashing through UNIT soon enough; they were all exceedingly lucky no one had made that connection earlier. Thank fate Rose had talked the Doctor out of putting John Smith on the birth certificates, or the teens would be in more danger than their mother.

"Well, that simplifies matters. Your prior service to the organization is known to only a handful of us, all of whom are retired. Even in its diminished capacity, Torchwood is still an organization UNIT will hesitate to act against, especially on British soil. Your reputation will give them another reason to pause before doing anything monumentally stupid."

"Reputation?"

"Don't be coy, Captain," he reprimanded. "You know very well you have cultivated a reputation as a man who shouldn't be crossed." Softening, he continued, "Be glad of it, Jack; it may just save you all. I'd stay in Wales for a while, however, if I were you. At least until UNIT finds something more interesting on which to focus its attention."

"Can you destroy tonight's evidence?" he asked, hoping to buy them some time.

"Not without involving too many people, which would make the whole exercise pointless, but I'll work on discrediting it."

Listening to the lieutenant who had quietly entered the room, the Brigadier excused himself. "I've got to take a phone call. The morgue is two levels down; I'll meet you there when I can." Shaking hands, the two men parted.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

As Jack walked into the morgue, Melissa stopped singing, although she continued to wrap the Doctor's body in a long linen cloth. He really wished she had continued the song; the tune was haunting, made all the more beautiful by the lyrical alien words.

"Don't stop on my account," he softly said as he reached her side.

Persisting silently in her task, she finally asked, "What did Sir Alistair tell you?"

"We were scanned when we entered the building. I'm sorry, Melissa."

"It was a risk I had to take." She fell silent for a few minutes as she worked. Finally, she said, "I'm the one who's sorry, Jack. I shouldn't have involved you without asking. I don't even know if you're with someone right now." That was a complete lie; she knew about Jack's relationship with Ianto, even if she didn't know the depth of it at this point in time.

He bent over, and ignoring the surveillance cameras whispered in her ear. "I'm glad you found me. We need to talk about a lot of things very soon, but my feelings for you haven't changed. Even if yours have, I will protect you and Susan and Matthew. I promise."

She nodded stiffly and went back to wrapping the Doctor's body, although she let him help this time. Quietly, the two worked for almost an hour. Finished, Melissa once again began to sing, but had to stop because her voice started to crack as grief tried to choke her.

Standing behind her, he wrapped his arms around her when it became apparent that she couldn't finish. "I'm sorry." She just nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

At last, the Brigadier arrived, out of breath and deeply troubled. "I'm afraid there are some complications. The American division of UNIT has persuaded the Secretary General to detain your children. They aren't going to be allowed to reach Cardiff, I'm afraid. UNIT is set to take them before they process through passport control at Heathrow. It's a desperate ploy; they know once the children are safely in Wales that it will be next to impossible to use them as leverage. A Major Marshall is already waiting at the airport."

Jack felt Melissa tense, her right hand balling into a fist as she heard the name Marshall. "You know this guy?" he asked, surprised by her reaction.

"You do too, Jack," she answered, trying to keep her voice steady. "He's the same officer you confronted before your heart attack, remember?"

Even after a century, Jack remembered all too well. "That guy's crazy! What's he doing here?"

Even more disturbed, the Brigadier answered, "He arrived just twenty minutes ago. He was flown here in a B-2 bomber that refueled in the air. Whoever he is, he was determined to arrive before the children's plane, and has been given the lead in the operation. Their plane's been delayed by the way; one of the runways is closed for emergency repairs. They are now expected to arrive at Heathrow around 11:00 AM."

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Jack responded, his voice dangerously calm. Dialing a number on his mobile, he began to issue his own orders. "This is Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood. I need to speak to her Majesty immediately."

Sir Alistair smiled, wishing he had thought of that tactic himself. Once again, he was reminded of just how resourceful the Captain actually was.

"Your Majesty? I'm very sorry to call in the middle of the night, but I need your help. My family is in some trouble. My children are on their way to Cardiff, but UNIT is trying to detain them in London to use as leverage against me."

Letting go of Melissa, he started to pace. "No, Ma'am; it has something to do with the Doctor's death, that's all I know." Listening for a moment, he commented, "He was a good friend of mine as well, but UNIT is trying to use his death for their own gain. I am not going to let them conduct experiments on his remains. We owe him more than that."

The voice on the other end of the phone became shrill, and it was all Jack could do to keep the mobile against his ear.

"I can't thank you enough. If you could make the call to divert their plane from Heathrow and have it land in Cardiff, it should be sufficient. Torchwood can handle the rest."

After listening for a few more moments, he added, "No, Brigadier Leftbridge-Stewart is handling that. I'm with him now. In light of UNIT's actions, however, we may have to hasten our plans a bit. I don't think there's going to be a memorial service now."

"Yes, I'll tell him. Thank you again. I'll let you know if there's anything more you can do."

Ending the call, Jack turned to the Brigadier. "She'll personally shield you from any reprisals that arise from your actions. She was very upset when she heard what UNIT had planned to do. I think she's on the phone to the Prime Minister as we speak."

"Well done, Captain. I wish I had thought of that myself. The Doctor and she have been friends for many years; he saved her from an assassination attempt during World War II."

"Really? What regeneration was that?" he asked, curious.

"When he was in his fifth body, if I understand correctly. He had long since left UNIT's employ, but he popped by to visit me once in a while. I was teaching at a boys' school at the time; odd goings on, but then it always was when he was around."

As he was reminiscing, the Brigadier noticed Melissa's distress. She was slumped in a chair, hunched in pain. "I say, are you quite alright?"

At the old soldier's words, Jack raced to her side. Helping her sit up, he quickly assessed her condition. "That's it; you need some food and rest. We're out of here."

"I'm perfect. I just needed a minute to get myself together," she argued unpersuasively.

Jack swiftly retorted. "You are so far from perfect that I would laugh at your choice of words if I wasn't so worried about you. You're about to drop, and you're neck is bleeding again. Your injuries aren't healing like they should, and I can only assume that's because you've pushed even your vastly superior body past its limits. Damn it, you haven't even eaten in at least seventy-two hours!"

Suddenly trembling, she argued, "I can't stand it, Jack! He deserves so much more. I can't sit by and let UNIT take him."

Looking at the Leftbridge-Stewart, she added, "I'm sorry, Brigadier, but if Marshall's involved, then they are not going to allow you to do your job."

Sir Alistair nodded slowly in agreement. "I had come to that conclusion myself. It is difficult to be as intimidating at eighty as it was at forty." Putting his trust in her, he asked, "What do you propose we do?"

Taking the sonic screwdriver out of her pocket, she aimed it at the security cameras, blocking the signal. Then, almost reluctantly, she took another item out of her coat.

"Hey, that's my sonic blaster," Jack remarked in surprise. "I never thought I'd see that thing again."

She looked soulfully at him, her eyes full of remorse. "He deserves better, Jack."

Instantly understanding her intent, he tried to comfort her. "He's gone. We'll do it together, okay?"

Taking the blaster from her hands, he carefully adjusted the settings. Helping her stand, he stood on her right side, so she could grip the weapon with him. As the Brigadier watched solemnly from several feet away, she pulled the trigger.

As the Doctor's body disappeared in a rectangle of nothingness, Jack began to program his wrist computer. "We need about ten minutes to get away. I'll let you know when we're safely in Cardiff. I suggest you go home as soon as you can." As a final sign of respect, Jack saluted the Brigadier, and then activated his teleport, Melissa in hand.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She managed to stay upright after the teleport this time, but only just. The courtyard was deserted; however, the gate was thankfully open. Quickly leaving the Tower, Jack sped down the empty streets, heading for the motorway. "Once we get out of town, I'll stop and find you something to eat," he promised, forgetting it was Christmas.

She simply nodded as she looked out the window. After a few minutes, she apologized, "I'm sorry, Jack."

Not bothering to wonder what she was apologizing for this time, he squeezed her hand and tried to comfort her. "There's no reason to apologize. It will be a couple of hours before we're in Cardiff; try to get some sleep."

Rubbing her eyes, she protested. "I can't. Not until I know Susan and Matthew are safe. That monster Marshall can't get them; he just can't."

Glancing at her, he was surprised at the level of anxiety she was showing. "What did he do to you?" he asked gently, almost afraid of her answer.

"Nothing in this timeline, and I want to leave it that way," she replied emphatically, once again feeling the irrational shame of rape.

"He's not going to get the kids; I promise you that."

Both were silent for several miles, thinking. Finally, Jack decided to brave a question or two. "What does all of this have to do with Bad Wolf, Melissa? Why do I keep hearing that name? That was the name of the Game Station where the Daleks were calling the shots. Is this a Dalek plot?"

Halfway grateful for the distraction, she answered readily. "You're right, the Bad Wolf Corporation ran the Game Station. But those words became so much more. When the Doctor was creating the Delta wave, he sent Rose home in the TARDIS. A recording told her to have a wonderful life and to let the TARDIS die. But Rose couldn't accept that, so she managed to rip open the console and look at the heart of the ship."

"But Blon did that and became an egg," he interjected.

"I didn't say it wasn't dangerous, Jack." Looking out of the window into the dark, she continued. "She looked into the heart of the TARDIS, and the TARDIS looked into her. I can only imagine what they both saw, but I think there was an instant connection between two beings who desperately loved the Doctor. The TARDIS let Rose absorb the energy of the Time Vortex, the better to become the all-powerful being needed to save the Doctor."

"But that's wrong," he argued. "No one's supposed to have that kind of power."

Trying not to react to his use of the word wrong, she nodded. "No one should have that kind of power, and no one is able to handle that much power for very long. But Rose managed to hold onto it for several minutes. It was long enough to turn the emperor, his followers and their ships into dust, long enough to give life to a dead man she had loved, and long enough to choose a helper, a messenger, an emissary, if you will, to manage things when she could not." She paused to give him time to absorb the enormity of Rose's actions.

"She brought me back to life," he whispered, scarcely daring to believe it. "I always thought the Doctor had done something to me; I never dreamed it was Rose.

Hating to be the one to tell him the rest, she quietly explained. "She couldn't completely control the power she wielded. When she brought you back to life, she brought you back forever. You are a fixed point in time. You can never die; or rather you can never stay dead."

"Never?" Slowly, he became aware of just how long never could be. He would outlive everyone he ever cared about, even her.

"I'm sorry, Jack." She had never been so sincere in all her long life.

"Is that why he left me?"

She looked again out the window, wishing he hadn't asked that particular question. "Yes. Time doesn't flow through you as it should. It's disconcerting at best, and he didn't have the luxury of time to adjust."

Trying not to let his nervousness bleed into his voice, he asked, "And you? Do you think I'm wrong too?"

Twining his hair through her fingers, she assured him. "Oh, Jack, you're not wrong. You're brave and compassionate and handsome and sexy."

Turning serious, she continued, "Yes, I can sense a difference in you, but it doesn't matter. It wouldn't have mattered to the Doctor, except he was terrified at what Rose had done. He loved her even then, as I'm sure you knew, and couldn't face telling her that she had been responsible for your immortality. So, he did what he's always done; he ran away."

Hastening to comfort him, she added, "but you and he were friends after that, Jack. I promise you found him and got your answers."

Her tone of voice spoke of personal experience with the Doctor's running, and he was instantly curious. "Who was he to you, Melissa? Did you know him?"

She smiled briefly at his question, the better to reveal a small truth while hiding the important one. "Everyone on Gallifrey knew the Doctor. You couldn't be a Time Lord and not know about him. If he wasn't serving as president, he was about to be executed for treason. He was an explorer in a world dedicated to observing, and during the War, he became our only hope. And now he's gone, and I can feel a terrible emptiness in my head where they all used to be."

"I'm sorry. Why didn't he know who you were when we found you?"

"That's complicated."

Sighing, she tried to order her thoughts in a way he would understand. "Time Lords were dedicated observers, as I told you, but sometimes, they liked to get a little more personal with their studies. So they invented this machine called a chameleon arch. It could re-write a Time Lord's biology into almost any sentient species in the universe. It stored our true consciousness inside an object, usually a fob watch if it would blend in enough. A Time Lord in this state would appear to be the species he or she was impersonating, down to the cellular level. It was good enough to fool another Time Lord. I used to joke that it was voyeurism at its deepest level.

"So when you said you had lived your life for thirty-five years as a human, you really meant it."

"Yes." Reluctantly, she confessed, "I don't remember what happened; I can only guess, but I think I must have used the chameleon arch shortly after the War ended. My injuries must have been so severe that it was the only option; in fact, I'm guessing that I regenerated into a child's body to try to save enough energy to heal myself."

"You burned," he said with a sick realization.

"Yes."

"The Doctor said he wiped out the Daleks, but it took the Time Lords with them. He said they all burned."

"Yes."

They rode in absolute silence for a long while after that.

Trying to stay alert on the dark road, Jack finally remarked, "You still haven't explained how those seers and the Carrionites knew about the Bad Wolf."

Answering as if they had never discussed the Time War, she began, "In her power, Rose created the Bad Wolf, the entity she had become. She scattered the words throughout time and space as a message to herself. Certain species can see that connection in you, since Rose brought you back from the dead."

"They saw it in you, too." He didn't like where this was going.

"In the time she was the Bad Wolf, Rose saw all that was, all that is, and all that ever can be, and she held absolute power over all of it. Somehow, she reached back in time and chose me as her emissary. I'm just as marked as you are."

"If she saw all that, why didn't she save herself? Why did she die at Canary Wharf?"

She looked at him in sympathy; she had forgotten this version of him had yet to know the full truth. "That's just it; she didn't die. She, her mother and Mickey Smith all got trapped on a parallel world, one where Jackie's husband is very much alive. Rose has a father now."

Knowing it would come up at some point, she admitted, "But she's not trapped anymore. I saw her tonight, Jack. She was travelling between universes like she was teleporting, and when I asked her how, she told me that the universes were collapsing on each other; then she told me the darkness is coming."

"Rose told you the darkness was coming?" Jack swerved to avoid an animal in the road as he tried to understand that astonishing fact.

"Believe me, when the Dalek said that same thing, I was shaking so much that I could hardly stand."

The sky turned grey as dawn approached. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but didn't know which answer he wanted first, so it was once again silent in the car. As Jack reached Cardiff, he headed for the city center, painfully reminded of the past few days.

Was it yesterday or the day before that he had held John's hand as the carbon monoxide slowly stole his life? Owen had lost Diane as well; in the end, she had been as unable to accept the time displacement as John had been. That made this morning Christmas day, although it certainly didn't feel like it to him.

Pulling into the parking lot, he looked over at Melissa. She was sleeping soundly, her head leaning against the window. Abruptly, he realized that she was just as much out of her time as the three refuges from 1953 had been. In fact, she was as displaced as he, if not more so. At least he had lived in this primitive time long enough to appreciate the strides the planet had made since the end of World War II. Would she be as unable as Diane to accept her clipped wings, or would her children anchor her in place?

Pushing that thought aside, he carefully opened her door, and picked her up; she didn't stir. Carrying her into the Hub, he gently laid her down on the sofa and covered her with his coat. If he was lucky, she might get a few hours rest. Then, he started calling his team.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Owen was the first to arrive, although it looked as if he hadn't slept. Jack didn't bother to wish him a Happy Christmas; he wasn't that cruel. Tosh came in next, wearing one of those cheery holiday sweaters full of buttons and sequins that he absolutely hated, but he loved Tosh, so he jauntily told her how good she looked. Ianto followed on her heels, impeccably dressed in a suit, as usual.

As Jack was deciding whether or not to wait for Gwen, Ianto approached him, a cup of coffee in his hand. Giving it to his boss, he remarked, "Is there any particular reason why a woman is asleep on the couch, sir?"

"She was tired?" he quipped, hoping to postpone the discussion until Melissa was awake.

Overhearing the exchange, Owen angrily stomped over to the couch, ready to wake up whomever Jack had dragged back to the base, no doubt for a little early morning holiday sex. Trust Jack to ignore safety protocol in favor of his dick.

The sight of Melissa lying on the sofa covered by Jack's coat stopped him in his tracks, however. The image triggered his retconned memories of Colorado, the school, the alien invasion, Jack's near death experience, and most importantly, Jack's family. What the hell is she doing here, he wondered. Peering closely at her, he clinically noted her paleness, the bloody bandages on her neck, and her wrapped left hand, not to mention the state of her hair. Concerned, he bent over to check her pulse.

"Back off, Owen," Jack practically growled. "Her name's Melissa, and she's exhausted; let her sleep. I'll explain when Gwen arrives."

Normally, Owen would have done anything but back off; however, he was still trying to process his memories. "Yeah," he agreed distractedly, backing slowly away.

Too exhausted and grief stricken to notice Owen's unusual level of self control, he led the doctor towards the work stations. With no sign of the last team member, Jack pounded Tosh's desk in frustration.

"Where the hell is Gwen!"

Owen shot a look at his boss, remembering how testy Jack had been at the school when his family had been in danger. The Captain looked like he was about to blow a gasket now, and when Owen really looked at him, he could see all of the exhaustion and stress that he was trying so hard to hide from his team. Something was very wrong.

"When's the last time you slept, Captain?"

Irritated at being questioned, he whirled around, ready to confront Owen, audience or no audience. The genuine concern on the medic's face stopped him in his tracks. "I don't remember," he admitted reluctantly.

Not letting him reply, Jack added, "I'm sorry about Diane. I would have said something sooner, but I got a call and then all hell broke loose." Pausing, he finished, almost to himself, "It seems like such a long time ago, now."

It certainly didn't feel that way to Dr. Harper, but he the comment slide. Something had happened to upset Jack's equilibrium, and he had a good idea it involved Melissa's presence and her apparent injuries. At that moment, he almost told Jack he remembered, but kept silent. It was not something to discuss in Ianto or Tosh's presence. Besides, he had offered to be retconned, and he wasn't sure the Captain would appreciate knowing he could remember. He wished he could ask about the kids, though. Why weren't they with their mother?

His patience at an end, Jack decided to brief the team without Gwen. She could catch up later. Leading them to the conference room, he sat down and took a deep breath. "Last night, as Toshiko already knows, I went to London to investigate the draining of the Thames River and the alien sighting. Once there, I was informed by UNIT that the Doctor had saved the planet once again, but had perished during the confrontation. They found his body in an abandoned Torchwood facility."

Ianto stared at Jack in shock; more emotion on his face than usual. Tosh put her hand over her mouth in horror, and Owen pretty much summed it up for the group when he blurted, "Shit!"

Glancing at Owen, Jack acknowledged, "Exactly. The Earth is without one of its greatest defenders, and we are very likely up a shit creek."

Ianto interrupted, "But I thought he regenerated?"

Score one for Ianto Jones; he really did know the archives inside and out. "Whatever happened, happened so quickly that he wasn't able to regenerate."

"So what did the autopsy reveal as the cause of death?" Owen was curious; it must have been something impressively powerful to kill a Time Lord.

Tensing, Jack's tone of voice reached a level of lethality unknown even in the Hub. "There was no autopsy performed; I made sure of that."

"Wasn't it a UNIT operation, Jack? I don't understand how you were able to take charge."

Of course it would be Tosh who finally spoke up when UNIT was mentioned. He couldn't blame her, though. If UNIT had imprisoned him like they had her, he would be just as wary when discussing the organization. Come to think of it, he should have known how ruthless UNIT had become by her imprisonment alone.

Trying to calm down, he slowly answered. "UNIT overstepped its bounds. They decided the Doctor was just another alien asset. They planned to perform experiments on his body instead of treating him with the respect he deserved. With the help of a few insiders, I was able to stop them."

No one commented. Jack's tone of voice made it clear that the matter was closed. Switching topics, he continued. "The woman sleeping on the couch is going to be consulting for Torchwood for the foreseeable future. Her name is Melissa Morgan. She's exhausted at the moment, and I don't want everyone bothering her with intrusive questions. Have I made myself clear?"

Reluctantly, Tosh and Ianto agreed. Both were curious, but knew better than to cross Jack when he was in such a dark mood. Owen agreed because it was obvious that Melissa needed the rest. After she woke, however, he intended to find out what was going on. He wondered if she remembered him.

Jack was thinking he had enough time to shower and shave before going to the airport when the cog wheel door opened with its usual noise. As Gwen ran inside, hoping the others had taken just as long to arrive on Christmas day, she slammed into Melissa, who had awoken disoriented to the sound of sirens.

The rest of the team ran out of the conference room as they heard Gwen exclaim in a loud, overly calm voice, "Whoever you are, just put the weapon down. We can talk, yeah? You don't need the gun to talk."

Not stopping to think, Jack raced to place himself between them. Putting his hands over the blaster, he spoke calmly. "We're at Torchwood. I should have stayed with you; just put down the blaster, okay?"

Suddenly realizing she was in the Hub, Melissa immediately lowered the weapon. "I woke up a little disoriented," she tried to explain, embarrassed. "Sorry, Jack."

Before he could respond, Gwen demanded, "So, who's this then?"

He turned to her and answered easily, "Gwen, meet Melissa Morgan. She's going to be doing some consulting work for Torchwood. In fact, all of you should meet Melissa since she was pulling a Sleeping Beauty when you arrived."

Owen noticed Melissa blush at Jack's words, wondering at the reason. For an instant, she looked beautiful, but then the blush faded and her deathly paleness returned. Was he the only one who saw that she was gripping the edge of the chair she was standing next to so hard that her knuckles were white? Astonishing everyone in the room, he stepped in front of her, took her by the left arm and led her back to the sofa.

"I'm Dr. Owen Harper. Let's take a look at your neck. If you're going to work for Torchwood, you might as well get a proper check-up."

Sitting gingerly on the couch, she couldn't help but grimace slightly in pain. Her stomach was really starting to hurt now, and she knew she needed several hours of sleep if it was going to heal. At the moment, she couldn't afford it; she wasn't going to let Marshall get anywhere near Susan and Matthew.

Jack and Owen both observed her discomfort. Spouting orders to Toshiko to monitor UNIT communication, Jack unsubtly dismissed the rest of his team.

"Gwen, get in touch with your police contact. I'm going to the airport shortly to pick up a package. Warn them ahead of time not to interfere in Torchwood matters. And tell them UNIT has no authorization to be in Cardiff at the moment. That order comes from Her Majesty herself."

"Ianto, I need you to make reservations at the Holiday Inn near the Castle. Book a suite; put it on the Torchwood account under a fake name."

As the others hurried to carry out his orders, Jack anxiously turned to Owen as the medic took off the bandages around her neck. "Are they bleeding again?"

"No, but she should have gotten stitches," Owen replied, studying the two large scabs. Addressing Melissa, he added conversationally, "Whoever did this really didn't like you, did they? A millimeter in the other direction, and it would have nicked an artery."

She didn't answer, the pain was becoming too great. Instantly suspicious, Jack leapt to the correct conclusion. "You're injured somewhere else. Damn it, Melissa, why didn't you tell me! I would have left the car in London; we could have been here—"

Stopping his tirade mid sentence, he bent down and kissed her forehead. Tenderly, he pleaded, "Let us help you."

"I can manage. As soon as we're back from the airport, I'll rest." It had taken a supreme effort even to answer him, and she wondered how she was going to manage getting out of the Hub, let alone being on guard for possible UNIT treachery.

Seeing the pain written on her face, Jack attempted to make her see reason as Dr. Harper watched silently. "The kids are going to be scared enough without you collapsing in front of them. You're safe here, and no good to me like this. I promise I won't let Marshall anywhere near them, but I can't do that if I'm worried about you, too."

Shooting a reproving look at Jack, Melissa jerked her head in Owen's direction.

"Don't worry," he reassured her, "I think he's recovered from his Las Vegas hangover, isn't that right, Owen?"

Uncomfortable, he replied, "Yeah, sorry about that, Jack. I saw her lying there with a coat on top of her, and it brought it all back." Suddenly as abrasive as ever, he continued, "Now are you going to get her to lie down so I can actually do my job?"

Knowing she was outnumbered, she reluctantly eased herself into a more comfortable position. Lying on the couch, she tensed as she untied her coat.

"It's your stomach, isn't it?" Jack asked, feeling guilty that he hadn't been more perceptive.

"Among other things," she allowed as he carefully undid the buttons on her green shirt.

"Jesus H. Christ!" Owen exclaimed as he looked at the ugly purple and black patches that marred her entire torso. "What the fuck happened to you?"

At the same time, Jack reprimanded, "You should have told me how badly that witch hurt you!"

Weakly, she tried to defend herself. "She put me into cardiac arrest. I thought a little pain was the least of my problems."

"It's more than a little pain," Owen commented as he gingerly poked and prodded her abdomen. With each touch, she strangled a cry, but couldn't mask the agony he was putting her through. Before she or Jack could object, Owen had pulled out a handheld scanner and started running it over her stomach. "You've got a bruised spleen and liver, and some indication that you bled internally for a time, although it seems to have resolved itself." Quickly moving the scanner upwards, he continued reading the results, "You've also got three broken ribs, one on the left and two on the right, and your heart—Bloody Hell!"

Jerking his head towards Jack, he acknowledged, "I guess you're going to retcon me again."

"Because it worked so well the first time?" he joked. Sobering, he glanced at his wife, who had slipped into unconsciousness. "Is she going to be alright?"

"How the hell should I know?" Torchwood's medic quickly retorted. "Normally, I'd put someone with her injuries in hospital, but that's not an option here, is it, Captain?"

"No."

Sighing, Owen finally allowed, "Her injuries shouldn't be life threatening as long as she rests." Glancing down, he covered her with his boss' coat. "She's unconscious, and that's probably the best thing for her right now."

Relieved that she was in no danger, Jack thought about the repercussions of Owen's discovery. "Are you going to tell the others?"

Studying the his boss, Dr. Harper took a minute before replying. "I don't know what the hell is going on, and I expect to be told at some point, but she's my patient, and I won't discuss her medical condition with anyone else."

"Medical condition?" He questioned hopefully.

"Medical condition," Owen affirmed. Turning serious, he added, "Do you want some backup at the airport? For when you pick up your package?"

Indecisive, he tried to decide if Owen should stay here to monitor Melissa, or go to the airport to provide some much needed support. Realizing just how fatigued he was, he admitted, "I don't know. I don't want to leave her alone, but things may get dicey at the airport."

"I'm going with you, then." Seeing his hesitation, Owen added, "She's going to be fine. I'll tell Tosh to keep an eye on her, and we'll disable the alarm temporarily. I'll even find her a proper blanket. She should be out for quite a while. Once your kids are safe, I'll come back to the Hub." Hating to mention the possibility, he added, "If something goes wrong, you're going to want a doctor nearby anyway."

Eyes cold, Jack harshly replied, "Nothing is going to go wrong. Are we clear?"

Reminded once again just how deadly his boss could be, Owen simply nodded.


	30. Stupid Stunts

Author's Notes - First, thank you to ss0495 for the review, and to everyone for reading. If you're not familiar with Torchwood, you'll be able to get to know those characters as Melissa does. If it gets too confusing, just let me know.

* * *

><p>While on route to the airport to pick up Susan and Matthew, Toshiko informed Jack that a UNIT team was preparing to meet a diverted Delta flight originating from Detroit, Michigan, at the gate.<p>

"Damn it!" Jack swore as he pushed the SUV to the maximum. "I should have known that psychopath wasn't going to give up that easily."

Seeing a dangerous gleam in his boss' eye, Owen asked, "What stupid stunt are you planning, Harkness?"

"We're going to meet the plane on the tarmac."

Acting on Torchwood's authority, the control tower stopped Delta flight 278 as soon as it touched down on British soil. As the plane sat idle at the far end of the runway, its passengers began to wonder what was wrong, especially when a fire truck, sirens blazing, parked near the nose of the plane. Next to the fire truck was a black SUV.

Inside, the cabin was abuzz with nervous whisperings. Was there something wrong with the airplane? Where were they? Why were they being detained? What was a fire truck doing next to them?

Momentarily, the pilot could be heard on the intercom. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Captain Matthison. Due to an accident at Heathrow, our flight was rerouted to Cardiff, Wales. While landing the aircraft, several sensors malfunctioned in the cockpit, necessitating the control tower to initiate an emergency protocol. Once the aircraft gets checked out, I'm sure we'll be on our way. In the meantime, please sit back and relax. The flight attendants will be coming around shortly to offer you the beverage of your choice. Delta Airlines apologizes for your inconvenience. There will be charter buses at the terminal to take us back to London."

As Matthew and Susan chattered about the delay, they wondered if they would be allowed to stay in Cardiff since it was their final destination. Soon, a harried flight attendant approached them.

"Matthew and Susan Morgan?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Matthew responded, hoping the woman would let them know if they could just stay in Cardiff.

"Could you come with me, please? The Captain would like to speak with you." As the twins stood to comply, the attendant added, "Take your carry-on items, please."

Curious, they walked to the front, noting that first class had been cleared, and its passengers sent to empty seats in other areas of the plane. As they entered first class, the attendant closed the curtains behind them, making them suddenly nervous. When they approached the cockpit, the outer door to the plane was open, revealing a firefighter in full gear on a ladder.

"These them?"

Nodding, the flight attendant gestured for them to follow the firefighter.

"Are you crazy?" Matthew asked, not one to enjoy ladders or heights.

"You need to come with me, Mr. Morgan. The captain is waiting for you."

Not really having a choice, both he and Susan made the slow descent on the ladder. About halfway down, Susan realized that all windows on that side of the plane were closed. Weird, she thought as she concentrated on getting safely to the ground.

Once on the concrete, the firefighter led them to the black SUV and two men. Grinning from ear to ear, Matthew recognized Jack first. "Dad! How'd you get us here so fast? Why'd you pull us off the plane like that?"

Jack didn't answer for several seconds as he fiercely hugged them both, taking in all the changes a few years had wrought. "Can't I just miss you?" he grinned, clapping the boy on the back. His look suddenly grave, he admitted, "I needed to know you two were safe."

Susan hopefully asked, "Does this mean Mom's already here?"

Although Jack had plenty of practice in the art of lying, it was still difficult to lie to Susan. "She's still in London, Sue, but she wanted me to pick you up. She'll be here as soon as possible."

Looking past Jack, Matthew spied the other man from the SUV talking to the firefighters. "That's the guy from the school! I thought you said he was a Time Agent?"

Taking a long look at Owen, Jack wished things could have gone differently all those years ago. "I was wrong. Turns out, he was a friend; I just couldn't remember. He's here to protect you right now, so be respectful, okay?"

"Sure," Matthew agreed, feeling very much out of his depth.

Returning to the SUV, Owen introduced himself to the teens. "Dr. Owen Harper. I work for Torchwood."

Matthew shook his hand, "I'm Matthew Morgan and this is my sister, Susan. Nice to meet you. I recognize you from the school. Thanks for saving my dad's life."

"No problem, Matthew. All in a day's work." Turning to Jack, he said in an undertone, "The team from UNIT's been detained, but they didn't get Marshall. He's on the loose, although the police think it's only a matter of time before he's apprehended." Owen snorted, letting Jack know just what he thought of the police's ability to capture the rogue UNIT officer.

"Time to go, then." Addressing the twins, he gestured to the SUV, "You two, get in the back. We're leaving."

After they had buckled their seat belts, and Jack was speeding off the runway, Matthew decided to ask, "So, what was that whole melodramatic, exit the plane from a ladder thing?"

"A precaution," Jack replied shortly, concentrating on driving.

"Christ, Jack," Owen argued, "you're going to have to tell them what we're up against sooner or later. Might as well be now."

"Thanks for the parental advice, Owen," Jack shot back, annoyed. He glanced in the rear view mirror. Susan and Matthew were jet lagged and scared, but Owen was probably right, they needed to know the dangers.

Coaxing just a bit more speed out of the SUV, he tried to explain the situation in terms they would understand without frightening them out of their wits. "There are a few people in UNIT that want to use you against your mom and me. They know we'd do anything to keep you safe."

"But I thought UNIT was the good guys," Matthew interjected. "The Doctor told us lots of stories about when he worked for UNIT. He even told us about UNIT and the Slitheen in Downing Street."

"I know, Matt, but some people in the organization aren't acting very nicely right now."

He needed to tell them about the Doctor, but couldn't bring himself to do it-not now, not racing down the road when he couldn't even comfort them.

"The Doctor'll sort them out," the teen told him confidently.

"Matt—" Jack's voice broke.

Owen started speaking as soon as he realized Jack couldn't. "Your father needs to talk to you about some other things when we get to where we're going, but right now we need to get there."

"Sure," they both answered in a subdued tone, more alarmed at Jack's emotional state than anything that had been said so far.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After an hour of randomly driving around Cardiff to make sure Marshall wasn't following, Jack arrived at a modest, well-kept home in an older neighborhood. It was nondescript and completely untraceable. He had paid for it with cash using an alias in the late 1960s. However, he had never lived there. Luckily, the house was between tenants and therefore suitably empty. Walking to the front door, he let them inside with his key.

"Home, sweet home," he joked as he showed the house to the kids.

"I thought we were going to a hotel. It's Christmas, and this place doesn't even have furniture," Susan complained.

"It's safe here, Sue," Jack patiently explained. "People can find you at a hotel."

Letting Owen sweep the upstairs, he pulled both children into a tight, brief hug. "I don't know how to tell you two this, but the Doctor was killed last night."

Susan immediately started to cry, and Jack put his arm around her, letting her sob against him. Matthew was stunned, and couldn't speak for several seconds. When he finally found his voice, he sounded confused. "Is that why Mom went to London? Did she know somehow?" Suddenly turning angry, he spouted, "It's that stupid watch! She opened it yesterday and screamed, and then she was packing us off to Cardiff to be with you. She knew; she had to know."

As Jack processed what Matthew had told him, the boy regarded him coldly. "What else aren't you telling us, Dad? What really happened to Mom? Is she even alive?"

"Of course she's alive!" The strain of the past few days overwhelming him at last, Jack walked into the kitchen and leaned heavily against the counter as he gulped several handfuls of water from the sink. "She's going to be okay. She was hurt, but she's recovering; I promise."

"Why can't we see her?" Susan suddenly didn't trust the man standing before her.

"Because she's resting, and it would be dangerous to take you to where she is. One of the UNIT troops at the airport got away. He'll be waiting for us if we try to see her right now. I can't take the chance with you two. I won't take the chance. We want you safe."

Before either of the children could make a comment, Owen appeared behind them. "Sit down before you fall down, Captain. That's an order."

As Jack wearily sat on the cold linoleum floor, Owen angrily turned to the teens. "You two need to give your father a break. I don't know everything that's going on, but I do know that he raced out of here last night to help your mother and managed to get her back to Torchwood with UNIT chasing them."

"Enough, Owen," Jack barked. "Give me a status report." He didn't want to have to tell them everything right now, and some of it was Melissa's to tell.

Acknowledging Jack's order, Owen leaned back against the counter. "The house is completely empty, aside from some paper for the toilet upstairs. Neighborhood looks dull enough, and there's no sign of any surveillance outside."

Quickly checking the cabinets, he continued, "There's no food, but at least the heat works, so we won't freeze to death. Tosh is trying to track Marshall on the CCTV, but he's been successful in avoiding the cameras, including at the airport. She's got nothing so far."

"I've got some potato chips and chocolate in my backpack," Matthew offered, trying to make up for his earlier doubts.

Giving him a tired smile, Jack responded. "Not the best Christmas feast, but it will have to do for the time being. Thanks, Matt."

Coming to a decision, he addressed Owen, "I'd like you to stay here while I bring back some food and supplies. I know it's Christmas, but I hope you don't mind too much."

"You're just saying that, Captain, because you know I don't have anything better to do." Owen didn't mind, not really; it gave him a good excuse not to think about Diane.

Slowly getting back up, Jack grinned, "That too."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Managing to get into the Hub without encountering the renegade major, Jack dismissed Toshiko. "Go home. Enjoy Christmas, or at least what's left of it."

"Are you sure?" she asked, half hoping he would change his mind. She had nothing waiting for her at home, although she would never admit that to him.

"I'm sure. Go home," he urged. Then becoming thoughtful, he pulled his personal mobile out of his pocket. "Here. It's a Christmas present. The holidays are a time for family; I thought you might like to talk to yours for a while." Smiling, he encouraged her. "I promise it's untraceable. Call you mother, Tosh."

Overjoyed, she gratefully took the phone. "Thank you, Jack." He just continued to smile, glad that one person was going to have a good Christmas.

As Tosh left, Jack went in search of Gwen. "Time to get back to Rhys' crazy family, Ms. Cooper. I'm sure the nut doesn't fall far from the tree there."

"And a Happy Christmas to you, Jack," Gwen responded acidly, annoyed at his teasing.

Admitting to herself that Torchwood was more interesting than Rhys' family, even at Christmas, she offered, "I could stay, yeah? Looks like our new consultant has jet lag."

Gazing at Melissa's still form, he earnestly told his newest employee, "Go home, Gwen. Have a normal life before it's too late."

"If you're sure," she replied, somewhat unnerved by his instantaneous change in mood.

Jack looked at her sadly and nodded.

He found Ianto in the archives, filing. "Go home, Ianto, or wherever you were when I called you in this morning."

"You look like shit," Ianto replied conversationally.

"Hey, a little respect, if you don't mind," Jack joked tiredly.

"You look like shit, sir," the Welshman added, deadpan.

"Yeah, well, it's been rough few days." After Ianto continued to give him that look, he added, "I'm going to get some sleep as soon as I get our new consultant settled."

As they reached the main level, Ianto carefully watched Jack as he cleaned the coffee pot. Jack's eyes strayed to the woman sleeping on the sofa time and time again.

"Who is she?" he finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Her name's Melissa Morgan, she's-"

"Who is she to you?" the young man intejected.

Turning his full attention on the archivist, Jack responded emotionally, "She's someone who matters, Ianto." Not knowing how to react, the Welshman quickly left to spend the rest of Christmas with his sister and her family.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alone in the Hub save Melissa, Jack began to pack a large sack with whatever food he could scrounge from his office, the break area and the refrigerator. It wasn't much, but there were some biscuits, crackers, salami, some soft drinks and hard candy. Okay, it was a complete disappointment, but he hadn't expected much else. He never cooked, so didn't keep much food in his tiny excuse for a room. Mostly meals in the Hub consisted of take away, but he couldn't chance that until Marshall was caught. Again going on a foraging trip, he brought back two blankets, some soap, shampoo and toothpaste. It would have to do until the stores opened. Jamming that into another sack, he went to wake the woman who might or might not be his wife.

Sitting on the edge of the sofa, he watched her for several minutes before he gently began to stroke her cheek. Her skin was cooler than he was used to, another difference to note as he accepted her as a Time Lord. Pulling the blanket down, he assessed her visible injuries. The black and blue marks had faded, turning a sickly green and yellow, but they were still prominent over her body. Wanting to give her as much time to rest as possible, he started to button her shirt.

Halfway through, her right hand gripped his. "I like it much better when you're unbuttoning my clothes, you know." She still looked pale and exhausted, but she seemed to be alert. "Where are Susan and Matthew?"

"They're at a safe house with Owen. Everything at the airport went fine, but Marshall's still on the loose. I didn't want to bring them here, just in case." He finished buttoning her buttons and helped her sit. "I thought you'd want to come with me."

"I do, just give me a few minutes."

"How bad is it?"

Resting a moment with her eyes closed, she replied, "Bad enough, but not so bad that I can't walk. I'll make it to the car, if that's what you're worried about."

"What I'm worried about would fill a book right now." Sitting on the sofa with her leaning against him was quite relaxing, and Jack wished he could close his eyes and take a catnap. Reluctantly, he finally stood and helped her to her feet. After careful scrutiny of the CCTV cameras near the base, he led her to the car park.

xxxxxxxxxx

Waiting patiently in the shadows, Major Marshall watched his targets walk towards the lone car on the second floor of the car park. He had managed to hide himself hours earlier in a corner outside of the area of surveillance. The UNIT officer had not actually been present at the airport; it had been an elaborate diversion. Never intending to go after insignificant teenagers, he was gleefully anticipating having the woman he despised at his mercy at last.

She wasn't even human; he could act out every single fantasy he had planned for her and there would be no repercussions. Plus, he could do it in front of the arrogant leader of Torchwood III, whom he would kill afterwards. That would teach the asshole a lesson in humility. In the end, he would merely report that the alien had voluntarily submitted to medical testing; it was a shame that she was allergic to such a common drug.

Carrying both sacks, Jack was ill-prepared for the attack. As Marshall stepped out of the shadows, gun raised, he dropped the supplies and pulled out his Webley, but his opponent had already fired. Staggering, he stared in shock at the blood on his coat. His right shoulder was numb, and he was fairly certain that something was broken because he could not hold onto his weapon, which fell uselessly out of his hand. He stared stupidly at Marshall, who was aiming his pistol at him once again.

As Marshall aimed for a second shot, Melissa pulled the sonic blaster from her coat and fired, but the battery had died. In that instant, Marshall, too, fired. Desperate, time froze around her as she drew on reserves of energy she didn't have. Studying the scene before her, she saw the second bullet less than three feet away from Jack's chest, and their attacker readying another shot. Carefully, she walked behind the bullet, picked up Jack's gun and fired. That bullet raced out of the barrel, then slowed to a stop in midair. Then, she moved in front of Jack and focused intensely on the shot heading for him. The metal began to corrode, slowly at first, then more quickly, until it was little more than rust and small scraps.

Time flowed.

To Jack's limited senses, Melissa appeared out of thin air to stand a foot in front of him; a third shot rang out, and both she and Marshall fell to the floor. Horrified, he knelt down to see where she had been hit, but there was no bullet wound visible on her body. Finding his own gun in her hand, he retrieved it with his good arm and walked to where Marshall lay, eager to finish him. The man was already dead, however, shot neatly in the heart.

Shock was already affecting his body, and if he had been alone, he might have killed himself just to hasten the healing process. Her welfare came far above his own, though. He had no idea what had happened to her, but her appearance in front of him seemed to indicate she had pulled another one of those freezing tricks like she had done in Pompeii.

It was a long few minutes as Jack somehow managed to drag her into the back of his car using his left hand. His right arm still wasn't obeying him, and the blood loss was making him dizzy. She was barely breathing; he couldn't afford to die now. Dropping heavily into the driver's seat, he pressed a handkerchief over his wound as he fought unconsciousness. Finally, he managed to think clearly enough to tap his earpiece, in the hope that Owen still had his device activated.

"Owen."

"What the hell is taking you so long, Captain?"

The doctor's question almost threw him into a fit of hysterical laughter, but he managed to repress the urge. Instead, he shakily answered, "I'm in the car park."

Irritated, Owen shot back, "Then get your arse over here. Not that I think your kids are terrible, but they're asking too many damn questions." After receiving no reply, he sarcastically asked, "Oi, Captain, are you still there or ignoring me as usual?"

This time Jack had to fight to answer, his voice laden with pain. "Sorry, I think I passed out for a second."

Instantly professional, Owen ordered, "Report, Captain! What's your situation?" When his boss did not immediately respond, he yelled, "Report, damn it, Jack!"

Weakly, he answered in short, terse sentences. "Ambush. Shot. Marshall's dead. Melissa's unconscious. I don't know why." Pushed past his limits, he began to despair. "I don't know. I just don't know. I can't lose her like this. Not now."

"Jack!" Owen yelled again. "Pull yourself together. Stay put; I'm going to call an ambulance."

"No," he countermanded, the fear of falling into UNIT hands giving him a momentary burst of adrenaline. "Not secure enough. I'll be there soon. Call Ianto about the mess."

"Bloody hell! Are you completely insane?"

Possibly, he thought as he took out his earpiece. Weaving through the thankfully near empty streets, he managed to arrive at the house without passing out, although he did run off the road twice. The last thing he remembered was telling Owen to take a look at Melissa first. Then, everything went black.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wondering where she was, Melissa woke alone in a dark room. Her body was hooked up to several annoying devices that needed to be disconnected, but she wasn't restrained in any way, always a positive sign. The bed was large and quite comfortable, so it was highly unlikely that she was in a hospital, either. From the taste in the air, she was at least still in the UK, if not Wales itself. Making up her mind, she pulled out everything attached to her, and hesitantly stood up to search for some clothes to replace the drafty hospital gown she was wearing.

When she found a pair of jeans and a green sweater in her size on the bathroom vanity, she decided to take a shower before venturing out of the room. It was three thirteen in the morning, and there was no reason to wake anyone up if she was safe, and no sense in alerting the guards earlier than necessary if she wasn't.

Clean, dressed and ravenously hungry, she regarded herself in the mirror. While she had looked at herself countless times over the past thirty-five years, it was the first time she judged herself by Time Lord standards. She liked what she saw. Ginger, again, even if her chopped hair was a mess and needed professional cutting. Fit, thankfully. A little on the short side, but considering the circumstances of her regeneration, she wasn't too surprised. A face pleasing to look at, plus the green eyes, always a bonus. Knowing she was stalling, she pushed the door open and walked out of the bedroom.

The room opened onto a small landing leading to two additional bedrooms. Each contained a single bed, desk and chest of drawers. Most importantly, Matthew slept soundly in one and Susan in the other. She decided to let them sleep. Treading lightly down the stairs, she came to the main living area in which there was a couch, television, dinette set and a narrow camp bed. The kitchen looked to be through a door on the right.

As the floorboard beneath her creaked, Jack abruptly sat up on the bed and pointed the gun he had been sleeping with in her direction.

"It's me," she called softly as she walked forward.

He put the gun down on the floor, but didn't answer her. Kneeling beside him, she kissed him on the forehead. "How's your shoulder?"

"Shattered," he replied shortly as he lay back down and closed his eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked, confused by his apparent anger.

Opening his eyes, he glared at her in the dark. "Don't ever pull a stunt like that again."

"He would have killed you!"

"In case you've forgotten, that's not a permanent condition with me."

"I'm sorry you feel your life isn't valuable, but I refuse to apologize for saving it," she snapped, now angry herself.

"You could have died!" he roared, all of his fear and apprehension evident.

"I'm fine, Jack; the bruising is gone; even my hand works." She wiggled her thumb to show him. "I'm famished though. Is there food in the kitchen?" When he didn't answer, she apologized. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you. Usually, I don't faint after a little excitement."

Still angry, he responded, "You call being unconscious for four days fainting?"

Reddening in embarrassment, although he couldn't see that in the dark, she became contrite. Kissing him chastely on the lips, she apologized again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you through that. I couldn't let that psycho get his hands on you, not again. I guess I wasn't thinking clearly."

He almost argued that Marshall had never hurt him, but he remembered that she held two timelines in her memories. What secrets were stored inside her head? Instead, he lashed out a tiny bit. "You need to apologize to Susan and Matthew more than me. They were terrified."

Now feeling monumentally guilty, she began to berate herself. "Yeah, well, I've never been a good mother; I don't know why I thought I could be this time." Exceedingly bitter, she added, "Everyone I love dies; they'd be better off in Colorado away from me." With the smallest of slams, she retreated behind the closed door of the kitchen.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Twenty minutes later, he quietly opened the kitchen door. There was a huge stack of pancakes on the counter, and she was standing at the stove cooking more. Trying to lighten the mood, he asked, "Are you going to eat all of those, or are you willing to share?"

Stiffening at the sound of his voice, she carefully turned around, her expression neutral. The sight of him almost broke through her frosty exterior, however. His right shoulder was a mass of purple and green, and looked to be stitched together much like Frankenstein's monster. The arm was in a sling, and his face was lined with pain. Taking pity on him, she placed three pancakes on a plate, buttered them, cut them up, and then drenched them with syrup. Wordlessly, she slid the plate down the counter and went back to cooking.

Savoring his food, Jack watched her work before speaking. "So, you've decided not to talk to me now?" Giving her his most charming smile, he hoped she would not hold a grudge for the things he had said.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm making breakfast." Her reply was exceedingly polite and exceedingly cold.

Trying not to roll his eyes, he quipped, "But you're not eating it. I can manage flipping flapjacks with my left hand. Fix yourself a plate." When she didn't answer, he cajoled, "Come on. You said you were hungry."

Grudgingly, she handed him the spatula; then placed five of the largest pancakes on a plate. Adding some butter, she poured a generous amount of syrup on top. Pouring a large glass of milk, she managed to consume the entire meal in less than three minutes. Still hungry, she fixed another plate, although she ate it at a more leisurely pace.

Grinning, he teased, "Stomach bigger on the inside?"

Raising an eyebrow at him, she finished off the last bite. "I need the sugar and carbs," she explained, cheeks again reddening in embarrassment as she realized she had just eaten ten pancakes in front of him in less than ten minutes.

Concentrating on the griddle, Jack poured the last of the batter onto the hot surface. He didn't want to fight with her, but they needed to talk. "Look, I'm sorry. I thought you had been shot. You appeared in front of me and collapsed just as he fired. What was I supposed to think?" Before she could answer, he added, "I can't die; I thought you of all people understood that. You shouldn't have risked yourself to protect me."

Playing with the ragged ends of her hair, she stared at her empty plate. "The sonic blaster failed, and I wasn't thinking very clearly. I just knew that I couldn't let him succeed."

She paused, knowing he had a right to understand why she had acted the way she had, but hating having to admit the reason. "In the other timeline, the one where I'm still human, he carried out his sick threats. I lived only because the Doctor managed a small paradox; but he still didn't get there quickly enough. So, I know what he is capable of, and what he did to you on the Valiant just made it worse." Looking at him at last, she allowed her emotions to show, "I couldn't let him do that again."

As she said the word Valiant, Jack felt a shiver go down his spine. There was an echo of feeling associated with that name, and it was not a pleasant one. Ignoring that for the moment, he put his good arm around her.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

She wanted nothing more than to turn back the clock to that week in Paris where they had been blissfully unaware of the future and completely happy. Sniffing back unexpected tears, she reached up and gave him a kiss. "Come on, let's go to bed. Your shoulder must be hurting."

Only half joking as they walked upstairs, he remarked, "It might have been easier if I had died. The bullet shattered my collarbone, and a bone fragment tore through a nerve. The arm's pretty much useless."

Helping him lie down, she gave him a dark look. "Don't even think about it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She was lying beside him trying to think of a way to heal his shoulder when he asked the one question she had been dreading.

"Who are you?"

"Jack, I'm the same woman you married. I'm Melissa." Please, please let him accept that without asking too many questions, she thought desperately.

"Surely that's just a persona you had while you were trapped as a human. Who are you?"

"I like being Melissa. I did it for thirty-five years. I grew up in this body being Melissa. I have two children as Melissa. Isn't that good enough?"

"You're a Time Lord."

"You keep mentioning that, Jack," she acerbically acknowledged, knowing she was going to have to partially satisfy his curiosity.

"Fine," she ground out when he didn't comment. "I'm the same age as the Doctor, more or less, and I'm not going to give you a number because I know for a fact that he's been lying about his age for centuries. I trained to be a xenoanthropologist because that was one of the few ways to ensure that I could get off my stuffy little planet. I had some adventures, settled down, had a child and basically lived the life of a Time Lord provincial."

Staring at the ceiling, she steeled herself for the rest. "For various reasons, I found myself alone. After a few centuries of feeling sorry for myself, I joined a group on Gallifrey who believed in action rather than observance. I ended up spending most of my time off world until the War started and I was called to do something else."

Turning to gaze into his eyes, she finished fervently, "Who I am is who I choose to be. Right now, I want to be Melissa Morgan. I like her. She has a family and people who love her. She's not alone."

Jack chose his words very carefully. "I can respect that. I can even accept that. You can't pretend that you aren't any different, though, because you are. No one is going to reject you because you've changed, Melissa. Susan and Matthew love you whether you have one heart or two."

"It's not them I'm worrying about."

Giving her one of his trademark Jack Harkness grins, he captured her mouth with his, finally kissing her the way he had wanted to while they had been stabilizing the timeline.

"You flatter me, Sweetheart. I can't imagine matching your experience, but I'm certainly ready to try."

She was straddling him before he could blink. "Jack, you're always ready to try." Then, looking down at him, she regretfully added, "But maybe you'd enjoy it more with your shoulder fixed. Give me your mobile."

It took him a moment to process her words, especially since she was still on top of him. Mutely, he tugged his mobile off the nightstand and handed it to her. They way she took the phone from his fingers from him made him wish that she was willing to continue what she had started. At least she had promised a next time.

As she ever so slowly slid off of him, she scrolled down through the address book until she had Owen's number. Placing the call, she propped herself next to Jack.

Before she could even say hello, a very tired Owen Harper was ranting into the phone. "Fuck, Captain! Are you going to let me get any sleep?"

"Nice to hear the sweet sound of your voice, too, Owen."

"Shit. Melissa! How long have you been conscious? Why didn't Jack call me? Is he alright?"

"Slow down, Owen, one question at a time. I'm actually calling about Jack. Does Torchwood have a tissue regenerator?"

Impatiently, he replied, "I thought about that already, but the bone's too dense and the nerve's too complex."

"I can adapt it," she confidently stated.

Intrigued, he responded, "I'll bring it over around nine. Some of us have to sleep you know. And, Melissa, tell Harkness no sex until I check both of you out, understand?"

"Spoilsport."

As she ended the conversation grinning, Jack tried not to get his hopes up. "What did Owen say?"

Feeling ridiculously happy, she began to laugh. "He said no sex until we're cleared for it."

Her mood was infectious, and Jack found himself grinning back. "Sounds like a challenge to me."


	31. Mind Games

Author's Notes - Thanks again to Mary Mathesen for yet another positive review. I appreciate the feedback.

* * *

><p>Doctor Owen Harper entered the Hub at eight, hoping that he could retrieve the tissue regenerator and leave before anyone noticed. It was a shit plan to begin with, but he wished it had been Tosh and not Gwen he ran into first. After Diane, he couldn't understand why he had slept with Gwen in the first place. It was making their work relationship awkward to say the least. He tried to ignore her as he packed up the medical equipment.<p>

Gwen, however, was in no mood to be ignored. "Nice to see you've bothered to come in this morning, Owen. Jack takes a walk and you decide you don't have to show up, is that it?"

"Jack's on holiday, Gwen," he replied with as much patience as he could muster. "And I'm on an assignment, so if you don't have anything useful to say, I'll be leaving." It wasn't that easy, of course; her raised voice had drawn the attention of both Ianto and Tosh.

"That's the tissue regenerator," Ianto noted with concern as he saw what Owen was packing up.

"Very observant, Tea Boy," Owen snapped. "I'm taking it out to conduct some field experiments."

The young man continued suspiciously. "Christmas day in the car park, when I took care of that dead UNIT soldier, there was a trail of blood ten feet away from his body. It led to Jack's parking space, and now he's not here."

"We killed someone from UNIT?" Tosh asked fearfully.

Owen looked at Tosh in disgust. "Get a backbone, Tosh. He was a rogue agent, and UNIT will never know, will they Ianto?"

Before he could respond, Gwen demanded, "Tell us what happened to Jack. If he's injured, then we should know."

"Look," Owen began, losing his temper, "The Captain's on holiday. He's probably showing our new consultant a good time. I'm sure he'll be back in a few days when he gets bored."

"Unless she was the one injured," Ianto surmised. "She's not at the hotel; I checked."

"Okay, that's enough, Owen! You're going to tell us what's going on." Gwen ordered in an outraged voice.

"As second, I don't have to tell you shit, Gwen! I can see now why the Captain keeps his private life so private. You're acting like you're reading some bloody tabloid! He's on holiday; get over it!"

Having finished packing up the tissue regenerator, Owen grabbed the box and walked out the door, ignoring Gwen's continued demands for an explanation.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the time Owen had switched his car to avoid anticipated Torchwood surveillance, he was in a foul mood. It didn't last more than a minute after arriving at the Morgan residence, however.

"Dr. Harper!" Susan gave the medic a joyful hug as she opened the door. "Mom's awake. Look!"

Actually breaking into a smile, he noted how much the mood of everyone in the house had improved, especially Jack's. It was obvious by the way the Captain held himself that he was still in pain, but his basic optimism was back. Melissa looked much better than he expected, and she surprised him completely by giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Momentarily at a loss for words, he put the tissue regenerator on the table. "I hope you have better luck with this than I did."

Scrutinizing the equipment, she smiled confidently. "Perfect! It's a Trass Model Three regenerator. It won't take much to adapt it." Turning to Jack she told him, "I just need the right tool."

Pulling the sonic out of his left pocket, he handed it to her. Matthew stared at it, a funny look on his face. "That's the Doctor's," he stated somberly.

An uncomfortable silence fell on the group. "You're right, Matthew. It belonged to him, but he would want me to use it if it could help.

"It just seems wrong," he argued feebly.

Sympathetically, she patted his arm. "It feels wrong to me, too. He should be here with us, but he's not, and we have to do the best we can without him. He wouldn't want us to give up."

"I guess," he reluctantly mumbled. "I'm going to get some air; I'll be back later." Practically running, he left the house.

Taken aback, Melissa commented, "I didn't know he was taking the Doctor's death so hard."

"He feels guilty, Mom. He thinks the Doctor would still be alive if he had done what the letter asked us to do." Susan nervously wrung her hands, unsure of her mother's reaction.

Sighing, Melissa looked compassionately at her daughter. "We'll never know what might have been, but what happened isn't Matthew's fault. I'll talk to him about it later."

Nodding, Susan, too, left the house to take a walk through the foggy streets of Cardiff.

Frustrated, Jack watched them both leave. "I've been too preoccupied to notice how Matthew was feeling. I should have talked to him earlier."

Owen snorted, "You mean you've been too weak to notice. Don't beat yourself up over it, Jack. You practically had your shoulder blown off, and when you were conscious, you were worrying about your wife. Your kids will understand."

Working on the device, Melissa felt another stab of guilt, which she pushed aside. "It's ready, but I think you should be sedated. It's going to be quite painful while the bone repairs itself."

"No drugs. Not with UNIT still a possible threat." Jack was adamant. He would rather be in pain than be incapable of defending himself.

"Don't be a tosser, Captain."

Defending Jack, she directed, "Leave, it, Owen. He's being prudent. Until we hear from the Brigadier, we need to keep our guard up. Does anyone know if they found the TARDIS yet?"

"His ship? UNIT found that yesterday when they finally sent divers into the basement of the HC Clements building. Just another example of Torchwood I's arrogance."

"You didn't mention that yesterday," Jack commented somewhat angrily.

"Because you were in no condition to worry about it! Or had you forgotten how much blood you had lost? It's lucky that your kids were matching blood types, or we really would have had a dilemma." Owen was in doctor mode, blustery and authoritative. It was not sitting well with Jack.

"You should have said something anyway! I needed to know!"

"What, so you could get up and go into the office?" the medic sarcastically replied.

"Time out!" Melissa shouted, stunning the two men into momentary silence. "I know it's tense right now, but you both are acting like two year olds. Jack, if you aren't going to let me sedate you, then I want Susan and Matthew out of the house while I do this. Owen, I know you've gone above and beyond the call of duty, but please take the kids to the stores. I think we could all use a party; that includes you, understand? Get some food, supplies, decorations, fireworks, whatever. But don't come back until after five; this is going to take some time."

Embarrassed, both men mumbled apologies. Owen left to find Susan and Matthew, not exactly knowing how he had been roped into being a party planner. Somehow, it didn't bother him as much as it should have.

"Are you sure you want to do this without drugs?" she asked in trepidation as they were alone at last.

"Not really, especially looking at the worried expression on your face, but I meant what I said; we still need to keep our guard up."

"Okay, if you change your mind, let me know; Owen left his medical kit. Come on, you're going to want to lie down, and that little narrow bed doesn't look very comfortable."

In the bedroom, she helped him take off the sling and shirt. Placing the regenerator beside the bed, she spent several minutes adjusting it with the sonic screwdriver before hooking it up to him. He could tell the instant she turned it on because that's when the pain became unbearable and he started to scream.

In the distance, he heard her yelling. "Jack! Will you let me help you? Please, Jack!"

He had barely nodded his head in agreement when he was transported to the edge of a crystal blue lake, the grass a vibrant dark red underneath his feet. All pain was forgotten as he turned around in wonder. She was sitting barefoot on a large boulder a few feet away, staring not at the lake, but at the snowcapped mountains in the distance. Her hair was long and wavy, pulled back with two emerald studded combs, and she wore a long green dress that shimmered in the sunlight.

"Where are we?" he asked in wonder.

"Your mind, although I'm providing the location," she responded, not really answering the question. "I thought you might find this more comfortable." Before he could ask another question, she reassured him, "I'm conscious and keeping a watch out for UNIT; don't worry."

"I wasn't," he admitted sheepishly. "This is fantastic! Is this place real, or is this your imagination?" he asked as he noticed he was wearing a comfortable pair of jeans and a flannel plaid shirt.

"Both," she replied shortly, as dark clouds began moving on the horizon. "Maybe we should leave."

He looked up and noticed the approaching storm. "Can you make it go away?"

"I don't know." She was unsure of how much of her emotions and his pain she could control while remembering this place. Digging deeper in her memories, she started to walk down a narrow trail that led up a gentle slope toward the mountains.

"Care to go on a walk?"

Mentally linking his arm with hers, he grinned "I thought you'd never ask."

They meandered along the path, smelling wildflowers and watching the colorful bugs, small animals and myriad of birds that made their home in the silver forest that they had entered. Still, the dark clouds loomed heavy on the horizon, and Jack began to wonder at their significance.

The path forked, and she took the one to the right, leading him farther into the forest. The light was subdued here, dappled through the silver leaves; a small stream flowed parallel to the trail. As they walked in silence reveling in each other's company, the stream grew larger, until at the end of the forest, they came to the base of a roaring waterfall. On the shore nearby, close enough to still feel the spray, was a small wooden pavilion with a stained glass roof. Inside there was a picnic basket, loaded with food.

"Hungry?" she asked with calm amusement. He grinned at her as they sat on bright red cushions. She fed him a small, round, red fruit that looked somewhat like cloud berries, but tasted juicier and much sweeter. Smiling almost shyly at him, she dipped another piece chocolate and popped it into his mouth. He took it all in his mouth, including her finger, nibbling playful at her as he enjoyed the taste of the exotic fruit. Instantly, the basket and food disappeared.

"Hungry for something else," he acknowledged with a lazy smile. He found himself lying on top of her, their clothes gone, a crisp breeze giving her bare skin goose pimples.

"You learn fast." She smiled, and with the speed of thought, she was on top of him.

How is she doing that, he wondered as he she kissed every inch of his skin-simultaneously. For the briefest of instants, he felt her yearning surge through him as his desire crested; it was an amazing sensation.

Gasping, she breathily whispered in his ear . "I didn't expect that. You must be a better telepath than I ever realized."

Somewhat overwhelmed by the situation, he managed to ask, "How?"

"It's mind over matter here, Jack, remember?" Concentrating, Jack again felt her fraught need merging with his own desire, and instantly his body changed positions to give them both release. When he mentally opened his eyes, he was still lying next to her, but she was also standing over him, a playful twinkle in her gaze. "Well, what do you think?"

Completely in awe of her in that moment, he beamed. "Can we do that again?"

Smiling, she responded, "Give me a minute, I'm talking to Owen about your treatment."

"What?" He was instantly standing and clothed in his usual Torchwood attire, including greatcoat.

Laughing in amusement, she stood in front of him, wearing a green silk kimono. "You're embarrassed! I thought you were an exhibitionist!"

"It's Owen. He just lost Diane and I don't want to rub his face in it." He mentally shrugged his shoulders, noticing the clouds were once again creeping on the horizon.

"You're not, you know. Watch."

His perspective shifted, and he was back in the bedroom facing Owen. Except, his body was lying on the bed, and his eyes were closed.

"I'm impressed," he heard the doctor say. "The bone has knitted together seamlessly. "How much longer before the nerve regenerates?"

"Another three hours or so. It's difficult to be precise with the jerry-rigged equipment."

He looked at himself through her eyes and noticed that she was holding his hand. Owen saw it as well. "He's going to be alright, you know."

His vision blurred, and he realized with a pang that there were tears in her eyes. "I know. I just wish I had been quicker. This wouldn't have happened if I had been paying attention."

"Bollocks! From what Jack told me, you were barely able to stand, let alone react to an ambush."

It was strange, the feeling of holding his own hand, odder still eavesdropping on a conversation that Owen obviously intended to be private. But, he was grateful for his medic's usual bluntness. Melissa must have been as well, because the tears were gone.

"You really don't put up with much, do you, Dr. Harper?"

"Not from people I admire, Mrs. Harkness." She must have made a face because he quickly added, "Don't worry, I won't use that name again. I'm not stupid."

That got a chuckle from her. "You are many things, but stupid isn't one of them. Thanks for making sure the kids were safe today and for distracting them. You're a good friend to both of us, you know."

Deflecting the praise, he commented, "If you had asked me a week ago if Jack had any friends, I would have said no."

"But you know better now?"

"I think I do." Looking at her hand still holding the Captain's, he added, "You're going to stay here until it's finished, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll leave and check on everyone in the morning. He should really show up at work sometime tomorrow if at all possible. I think the team's ready to revolt."

"I'll let him know. Would you tell Susan and Matthew that I'll come see them when the nerve's finished healing?"

As Owen left the room, she flipped a switch, increasing the power to the regenerator. Jack couldn't feel a thing. When he looked up, however, he was back in his body, once again gazing at the breathtaking alien landscape.

"See; I told you," she smiled, still wearing the silk kimono.

"Actually, that takes show and tell to new levels," he smirked, now wearing a black silk robe, open at the waist.

She was about to reply when rain started to gently wash away the waterfall, grass and sky, leaving only the pavilion against a backdrop of muted watercolors. The dark clouds began to overtake the background, blotting out the scene until they were standing in the middle of an ancient domed citadel. Impossibly tall spires reached into the sky, stopping only feet away from a pearlescent force shield.

"What's happening?" he anxiously asked, once again dressed in Torchwood gear, his gun in his hand.

She appeared some distance away from him, wearing the same black pants and boots she had donned inside the wardrobe room of the TARDIS, only this time her shirt was also black and utilitarian with a dark green circular insignia on her right sleeve. There was an impressively large weapon in her hand.

"The nerve regeneration is causing you much more pain than the bone did. I'm having a difficult time blocking it. Just give me a second."

As she spoke, fiery red explosions lit the black background. They hit the force field over and over, at first with no effect, but soon cracks began to appear, and then the shield failed entirely, shattering like broken glass. He could see millions of metallic spots in the distance moving closer.

Abruptly, the picture shifted. They were in a long hallway, doors slamming shut as they ran hand in hand to the light in front of them. Her hair was jagged again, and blood dripped from familiar wounds on her neck. Not acknowledging his questions, she forged ahead, leading him at last to her bedroom in Colorado.

The recognizable space seemed to relieve the tension in her shoulders. "That's better. Sorry, I pulled you into my mind." Wearily, she sat in her reading chair, inviting him to sit beside her. As the chair widened to accommodate two bodies side by side, she leaned against him, resting.

Stroking her back, he asked, "What planet was that? It was beautiful, like nothing I've ever seen."

The silence grew, and he knew he had asked a question he shouldn't have. Still, the answer, when it came, surprised him. "I wanted you to see my home."

"Thank you," he told her sincerely, knowing mere words were inadequate. He had been given a precious memory, and the fact that she was willing to share it with him humbled him deeply. He wondered how anything, especially a Dalek, could have destroyed the impressive shield technology he had witnessed.

"We were betrayed," she answered simply as she rested beside him. "I can hear your thoughts, you know," she added in explanation.

"Why can't I hear yours?"

"It doesn't matter," she responded dismissively. "I have too many at once for you to make sense of anyway."

"Is this where I get called a stupid ape?" He took out a handkerchief and began to blot the blood from her neck.

"How can I call you a stupid anything when you managed to merge our emotions like that? I haven't felt that type of mental contact in a very long time. I almost lost control." Her hand began to bleed, although he did not notice it yet.

"And you like to be in control?" He wasn't being suggestive; he was trying to figure her out.

Grinning, she answered, "Let's put it this way, if I had lost control, then Owen would have known exactly what we were doing." Deciding to give him a better explanation, she added, "A Time Lord can control all aspects of the body; we learn that trick at a young age. It helps us learn the discipline necessary to master our other senses, like our sense of time. Also, it means we can survive some very harsh conditions for a short period."

"But that comes with a price," he declared, remembering her four day collapse.

"Yes," she acknowledged. "It takes a large amount of energy to, say, stop the bleeding from a mountain lion attack. Try to control that type of situation for too long, and you could make things worse in the long run. If you become too weak, you could bleed to death in a matter of minutes, or you could end up unconscious until your body has a chance to heal itself."

Finally seeing her bloody hand, he wrapped another handkerchief around it. "So, I shouldn't have felt what you were feeling?"

Fighting his pain and trying to answer at the same time, she patted his arm. "No, of course not, it was wonderful. I seem to have gotten off on a tangent. I just meant that it surprised me. If you manage it again, I'll be expecting it. Besides, I think you'll like it. Have you ever actually felt your partner's orgasm through his or her body while experiencing your own?"

"That sounds like an interesting challenge." He moved across her to kiss her when he saw the green and purple bruises on her torso.

Jumping up, he was dressed again in jeans and a flannel shirt. "Get me out. You're not going to put yourself through that for me."

Stiffly rising to her feet, she tried to reassure him. "It's nothing, Jack. This is my consciousness' way of dealing with the strain of blocking your pain receptors. It's purely on a psychic level."

Angry, he suddenly found himself in an empty room, closed doors on all sides. "I don't want you to," he decisively ordered. "I'm not stupid. This is harming you in some way."

"You screamed when your bone was healing, and the nerve is ten times worse. I'm not putting you through that. Her hands were on her hips in defiance, but her face had paled considerably in the last few moments.

He won the ensuing staring match. "Fine," she said at last. "You have two choices: sedative or a very deep sleep."

"Sleep," he chose immediately; at least he wouldn't be drugged if something happened. Before he could mentally blink, she had pushed him out of her mind. Whatever she had done to him, he did not dream.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Something tickled Jack's nose. Irritably batting it away, he blearily opened his eyes to see a very cheery face grinning down at him. Instantly, he was acutely aware. Was he still inside her mind or had that been an incredibly vivid dream? Bracing himself to sit up without jostling his injured shoulder, he was momentarily surprised to feel no pain.

"It worked," he remarked in wonder as he flexed his arm and clenched his fingers.

"What did you expect?" Melissa asked in an injured tone before smiling again and announcing in a mockingly serious voice, "I am quite a genius, after all."

"Now I know humility is a Time Lord trait," he retorted while pulling her into an embrace and kissing her passionately, his hands slipping underneath her shirt.

At the same time, Susan impatiently walked into the room. "Mom, is Ja-; oh I see he's awake," she finished in a squeak as she backed quickly out of the bedroom.

As she moved down the hall, they could hear her emphatically inform her brother, "Believe me, Matt, you do not want to go in there right now."

"Both stifling giggles, they broke apart reluctantly. Trying to ignore the memory of the last time Susan caught them in a more than friendly situation, Melissa threw him the towel she had brought with her. "Get ready for work, Flyboy. Gwen has pushed Owen past his limits, and Ianto is under the impression that you were killed in the car park.

Finding his clothes neatly folded in the bathroom, he called back, "There wasn't that much blood, was there?"

"More than I would have liked," she admitted, suddenly in the bathroom with him, her body pressed against his.

When she didn't leave, he offered, "We could shower together."

Reluctantly, she turned down his offer. "It's already one, and Susan and Matthew would really like you to spend the night here with us."

"So you're saying I should get my ass over to the Hub and put in an appearance." He ran the shower, waiting for the water to warm.

"You should get the rest of yourself over there as well. Not everyone who works for you is going to recognize your rear end." Walking out the bathroom, she shot him a look of pure possessiveness, and he wondered again what secrets she held from the other timeline.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Jack! Tosh called happily from her workstation as her boss literally waltzed into the Hub at half past three in the afternoon.

"Toshiko! Did you have a good Christmas?" He gave her an enthusiastic hug.

Handing him his mobile, she readily answered, "The best. Thank you, Jack."

Surprising her completely, he refused the phone. "Keep it. Family's important; I should have thought about that long ago."

Too emotional to speak, she gratefully pocketed the phone and began to run a rift simulation on the computer.

Ambling through the Hub, he found Gwen in the cells feeding the Weevils. "There's four more since last week. You sure you aren't letting them breed, Gwen?"

Spooked by his voice, she whirled around. "Where the hell have you been, Jack?"

"Vacation." He smiled suggestively. "Do you know that Torchwood owes me twenty-seven weeks of leave? Thought I would take some for a change."

"You could have told us," she berated him.

"I told Owen, who told you," he responded testily. "I thought that was good enough." Although still smiling, his eyes were now serious.

"Well, it wasn't. Not when you made Ianto clean up your mess. We thought you were dead. You can't keep those kinds of secrets anymore, Jack." She threw the last piece of meat into Janet's cell.

There was a hint of warning in his voice when he answered her. "You knew I wasn't dead. And if you aren't going to keep my secret anymore, then I wish you'd have the guts just to tell me without trying to make me feel guilty. I was on vacation; leave it at that."

"With our new consultant," Gwen challenged, not ready to give up.

"And what if I was?" he thundered, his temper getting the best of him.

Unfortunately, Ianto chose that moment to appear behind them. "Nice to see you in the office today, sir." His tone was politely distant and in that instant Jack wanted to break every passive-resistant bone in his body.

"Shit," he muttered as Ianto kept walking purposefully towards the archives. Deciding he couldn't deal with the Welshman's jealousy at the moment, he retreated to his office, slamming the door behind him. Surely there was paperwork he could do. It was the first time in years that he counted the hours on the clock, eager to leave.


	32. Melissa Who?

Author's notes - Some of this chapter is based off the Torchwood episode "Combat," but you don't need to have seen it to understand what takes place.

* * *

><p>"So, does anyone have questions about the Hoix?" Melissa asked as she finished her briefing. She had been at Torchwood for three weeks now, and was slowly easing into a full-time position. Jack wanted her expertise in the archives, but she planned on participating in field operations within the month. When the others saw her accuracy with firearms, it would be difficult for him to refuse. With no indication that UNIT had given up pursuing her, however, she was biding her time.<p>

Gwen raised her hand. "Yes, Gwen?"

"How long after they eat are they hungry again?"

They were all sitting around the conference table, but Gwen seemed to be the only one interested in the topic. Owen, Melissa knew, had encountered the Hoix before, as had Jack. Toshiko was lost in her own world, still trying to understand how the consultant had improved the servers' efficiency by one hundred eleven percent. Ianto was studiously ignoring her, as usual.

Forcing back a sigh, she tried to remain cheerful as she answered Gwen's question. "As I said earlier, Hoix live to eat. They are satisfied only when eating, and the best way to subdue one is by distracting it with food."

"How do they reproduce?" Tosh asked unexpectedly, mentally rejoining the discussion.

"Messily," she quipped. "Actually, the male finds the biggest hunk of meat he can kill and brings it to the female who's in heat. He then impregnates her while she's eating. The males are also the gender who raises the young. I'm afraid mom can't control her hunger that well and without intervention from the father, the offspring are often eaten."

"I don't know about anyone else, but I've gone off lunch now. Thanks for that, Tosh," Owen remarked sarcastically.

Shooting the doctor an annoyed look, Melissa tried to bring the briefing to a close. "Any other questions?"

"What do you know about Daleks?" Ianto challenged, remembering Jack's sweep through the archive three days ago. The Captain had personally taken every scrap of salvage from Canary Wharf to the incinerator. When asked, he had told Ianto that he didn't want any Dalek remains in the Hub.

"Enough to know you don't want to meet one," she snapped, her eyes angrily searching out Jack's.

Everyone in the room was suddenly paying attention. "Briefing's over, people. We have work to do."

"Hold on, Jack," Gwen protested. "I think we'd all like to hear more about these Daleks, especially if they're that dangerous. We may need to know what to do if we see one."

"You better hope to hell the Dalek doesn't see you. Then you run," he replied seriously, not a hint of a smile on his face.

"I don't mind answering," Melissa assured the group, although Jack could hear the brittleness of her voice.

Relying on lecture mode to get through it, she began dispassionately. "Daleks are a genetically engineered race who believe they are the supreme beings of the universe, and their mission, unlike Cybermen, is to kill all other life forms, not make them Dalek." At this Ianto grimaced, but everyone was too engrossed in her explanation to notice.

"By the time their creator was finished with his breeding program, Daleks were little more than brains with tentacles. However, they are scarily smart and adapted metal and other materials to construct an outer casing to support them-their functional body, if you will. Most Dalek casings are equipped with a sucker and a particle weapon. They can extract information from any source with the sucker, including organic life forms, although it's not very good for one's health. The particle weapon is lethal, and even without emotions, Daleks enjoy their enemies' pain. Victims of their particle weapon are in agony for the two seconds it takes them to die."

Hands clenched, she gave Jack a sympathetic look before continuing. "Very little can get through the polycarbide casing of a Dalek. Most weapons are useless, and those that have worked in the past are soon obsolete. Even dead, Daleks can still kill; their casings are usually booby-trapped. And, I think that's more than enough about Daleks today, Mr. Jones, don't you?"

Ignoring the consultant, Ianto addressed Jack. "What were Daleks doing at Canary Wharf?"

"Hiding," Melissa involuntarily spat, rage and hatred evident in her eyes.

Shocked by her reaction, everyone again turned their attention to the newest addition to Torchwood.

"What were they hiding from?" Gwen asked fearfully. The description of the Daleks sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't imagine what could scare such fearsome creatures.

"A war."

Always interested in new technology, Tosh asked, "How did they hide?"

Taking a deep breath, she responded emotionlessly. "They managed to build a Void ship, which is capable of travel in the space between parallel dimensions. In this space, time has no meaning, and they were able to hide until they landed on Earth through a natural rift harnessed by Torchwood I."

Tosh became mute as she finally understood just how advanced Daleks were in comparison to humans. Gwen, however, could not keep her mouth shut. "Did the Daleks win the war?"

Giving her a look that could have melted steel, Melissa answered her coldly. "You wouldn't be here if they had."

"Who defeated them?" Ianto pushed.

She went so very still that Jack and Owen were both halfway out of their seats before she began to answer in a much too calm voice. "An ancient, arrogant and vastly superior race finally decided to come off their pedestal and crush the Daleks once it became apparent just how deadly they had become. Except, they waited too long. The Daleks had managed to match their technology, and began to overwhelm them. Desperate and knowing what would happen if their enemy was victorious, they unleashed a weapon that destroyed both the Daleks and themselves."

"Shit," Owen whispered, instinctively knowing that she was referring to her own people.

"That's it; briefing's over," Jack barked, and no one challenged him this time. They were all slightly stunned by the information they had been given, even if they all didn't realize how personal it was for their new consultant.

When everyone but Jack had filed out, she apologized. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring back bad memories of the Game Station."

Astonished, he gaped at her. "You just walked them through the Time War, and you're worried about my bad memories?" He tried to embrace her, but she backed away, grasping her head in pain.

"I'm fine." She lied unconvincingly, still holding her head.

"Go home," he pleaded gently. "Get some rest. Give the kids a hug."

"I'm okay," she continued to protest, trying to get her headache under control. When the dizziness started, she sank into a chair, not wanting to embarrass herself further by falling down.

Worried, Jack poured a glass of water from the carafe on the credenza. As he handed it to her, their fingers touched, and instantly he was transported to a much different setting.

There was no red grass this time, only miles and miles of concrete. It seemed to Jack that he ran up and down corridors for hours, shouting for Melissa, but he never heard a sound until he came to the entrance to a large bunker. There she was, literally beating her head against the wall, shouting and screaming for someone to let her inside.

"What do you think you're doing?" Anxiously, he yanked her away from the wall. Her head was bleeding and there was a dazed look in her eyes.

"I need to be in there! I need to know!"

"Where are we? What do you need to know?" he asked gently, still restraining her. "You're hurting yourself."

"This is Arcadia. We're outside the defense bunkers, but I can't remember any more than that! I have to know! Don't you understand? I have to know what I did here, and I can't remember! Why can't I remember?"

Suddenly they weren't surrounded by concrete, but standing in their bedroom in Cardiff.

A much more subdued Melissa addressed him. "Thank you, Jack. I was stuck trying to access my memories of the last days of the Time War. For some reason they're blocked. I know where I am now." With that, he felt a gentle push, and was once again facing her in the conference room.

After a minute, her hands relaxed from around her head and she gave him a sheepish grin. "Sorry. I don't understand how that happened."

Getting up, she swayed slightly from the aftereffects, and he gripped her tightly, speaking into her ear. "I am going to get you something to eat and then take you home. You need to rest. Please don't argue with me." Nodding, she let him lead her out of the Hub. Only Owen had the courage to approach.

"You look a little pale; everything alright?"

"I'll be fine, Owen. You know, anything to get a lunch date out of Jack."

Relieved to see her smile, he retorted, "I don't know why you bother. The Captain's just going to take it out of your pay."

"You get paid?" she asked in mock seriousness as Jack led her outside.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"For a consultant, she's here quite often," Ianto remarked to Tosh as he watched Melissa go into Jack's office and close the door. She was an odd one, he thought, a bit like Jack, wearing the same outfit every day. He was beginning to hate the color green.

Clueless to Ianto's jealousy, she defended the newcomer. "The longer she stays the better. Do you know she wrote a program yesterday that can detect negative spikes in the Rift? I didn't even know the Rift produced negative spikes."

"Impressive," he managed to grind out without sounding hostile. Taking Gwen her coffee, his eyes remained fixed on the door to his boss' office.

Behind closed doors, Jack was grinning from ear to ear. "Good news! The Brigadier just called. Seems like our problems are over. UNIT has finally come to its senses, thanks to Her Majesty. Alistair is temporarily in charge while the organization conducts a top down review of its policies and procedures."

"That's good," she conceded, unwilling to let her guard down just yet.

Still smiling, he continued, "Yes it is, but best of all, you're going to get an official apology."

"Oh?"

It seems the scanner was malfunctioning the night we were there. It registered about thirty percent of the people who passed through it as having two heartbeats. Some sort of technical glitch that caused an echo." His grin fading, he became somber. "So you and the kids are perfectly safe. You can move back home, if you like."

She searched his face, looking for anything that might give her a hint as to his thoughts, but his expression was carefully neutral. Gathering her courage, she spoke plainly. "My home was destroyed a long time ago. I'd like to make a new home, here with you, if that's something you want."

Overwhelmed, he huskily replied, "That's something I've wanted for a very long time. I just never thought I'd get it."

He felt a wave of grief wash over him as he thought of the Doctor and how things might have been. "Sorry," he told her as his smile faded, "I was thinking about the Doctor."

Understanding completely, she rested her hand on his shoulder. "I miss him, too." Then with more confidence than she felt, she promised, "Rose is going to fix this; I know she is."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Owen's been drinking again," Melissa remarked as she slapped a file on Jack's desk.

"I know," he answered, not looking up from the report he had been reading. When she continued to stand silently in front of him, he added in exasperation, "What do you expect me to do? He's dealing with the loss of Diane. It's not like a guys' night out is going to help him."

"Would spending some time with him be so bad? Guys night out would be the perfect excuse."

"You're ignoring the fact that Ianto doesn't want to have anything to do with me right now." He studied her, wondering if she really thought his spending a night with Owen and Ianto drinking would solve anything. Yes, she had spent thirty-five years as a human, but sometimes she just didn't get it.

Turning away to study the coral behind his desk, she questioned, "Do you regret what's happened between you and Ianto?"

"Why should I?" he answered automatically. "I told you a long time ago you were different. Standing up, he grabbed her hand. "Although," he added mentally, completely nude and with a wicked grin, "At the time I had no idea just how different you were."

Smiling in spite of herself, she answered in the same way. "Well, since you still haven't managed to stay aware of your surroundings when we do this, I suggest you get out of my mind, or Gwen's going to be very confused."

He ignored her warning. "Why are you so worried about Ianto? Yes, we had some great sex, and his use of a stopwatch is remarkable, but it wasn't anything permanent, and he knew that."

Watching Gwen walk slowly up the stairs, it finally dawned on her that this Jack had never needed Ianto quite like the other one had. He had never spent a year on the Valiant being tortured and murdered and never would. Breezily, she replied, "I feel sorry for him, that's all. He's young for someone who's experienced so much tragedy."

"I feel sorry for him, too, but I'm not going to have sex with him out of pity." Dropping her hand, he turned his attention to the door just as Gwen walked inside. Who said he wasn't aware of his surroundings?

"We've got another dead man, found in an empty warehouse with Weevil injuries, Jack."

"Great," he answered sarcastically. It was the third such death in a month, and so far the team had been unable to find a cause for the resident aliens' strange behavior.

"Melissa, you've been studying the Weevils. Have you found anything to explain their new aggressiveness?" Gwen asked.

"No," she responded curtly, tensing at the thought of what she had discovered.

"Okay, conference room in thirty minutes. As of now, we're making this a group project." With Jack's declaration, both women left the office to alert the others and gather their notes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So," Jack began after everyone was comfortably seated at the table, sandwiches and coffee in hand. "We have three dead men, all found in empty warehouses and all killed by Weevils. What else do we know? Owen?"

Fighting a hangover, the physician began his report. "The victims all show defensive wounds, indicating they were conscious during the attack. The only drug in their system is alcohol, although there is a good amount in each. Also, their injuries are brutal, even for a Weevil attack. It's almost like the Weevils were enraged. They didn't just kill these blokes, they ripped them to pieces long after a normal attack would have ended."

"Thanks for the image, Owen," Ianto complained.

"Ianto, do you have anything pertinent to add?" Jack challenged, not liking the young man's tone.

"At three this morning, a white van was observed on a new CCTV camera near the docks. Four men in masks kidnapped a Weevil and sped away, using a route specifically designed to take them out of camera coverage. There was no plate on the van. Pertinent enough for you, sir?"

All eyes on him, Jack questioned in a dangerously calm voice, "Why didn't you bother to notify me when this happened?"

"I tried, but you weren't in the Hub at the time."

His jaw clenched, the head of Torchwood III fought the urge to hit his antagonist. He should have expected something like this. "My mobile is always on; you should have contacted me."

"I would have hated to have interrupted you, sir. I know how you spend your nights." The young Welshman replied coldly, his eyes focused on Melissa.

Gwen and Tosh exchanged uncomfortable glances. They both knew Jack was no longer using the Hub as his sleeping quarters unless he was too busy to leave. Since both at one time or another had begged him to get a life outside Torchwood, they had assumed he had finally gotten an apartment nearby. But Ianto seemed to be insinuating something else entirely.

"Oh, grow up, Tea Boy," Owen barked. "Just because the Captain's not fucking you anymore doesn't mean you have to become a complete prat."

Shocked, Gwen and Tosh looked to Jack for confirmation. Annoyed, he snapped, "Let's focus, shall we? We have Weevils being kidnapped and three men killed by the same. Tosh, what have you got?"

"Well," Toshiko nervously began, not enjoying the undercurrent of tension in the room. "I finally traced the warehouses where the men were killed. They all belong to the same holding company, and they were all up for lease."

"Finally, something concrete we can use. Thanks, Tosh. When we're finished, see if you can come up with some information about the leasing agent. One of us may have to go undercover." Glancing at Melissa, he requested, "Why don't you give us a briefing on the Weevils since you've been studying them for the last week."

"Sure," she replied easily, no hint of the underlying turmoil she felt showing on her face. "Weevils were pulled here by the Rift sometime in the last one hundred years, but they are breeding and their numbers are growing. As you are all aware, they live mostly in the sewers. In their natural state, they have a pack mentality, much like a canines. One male is dominant, and leads the pack. Most of the Weevils you have encountered previously have been males, most likely exiled from the pack due to sickness or a failed challenge against the alpha male. Unfortunately, those are the ones you have to watch out for. They have nothing to lose and are often desperate."

Idly checking her notes, she continued. "Due to their eye structure, they prefer dark areas, and shining a strong halogen torch at them should blind them long enough to sedate them if necessary. They are dangerous only when frightened or provoked, but their teeth and claws are formidable. They have very quick reflexes and time and telepathy sensitivity, although they have devolved, so it's difficult to know just what they are aware of. While they have proven to be relatively harmless to the human population as a whole, I would recommend the females be sterilized to cut down on population growth."

"How did you decide they were devolved?" Owen asked, touchy that he had missed that fact during his many Weevil autopsies.

She looked up in confusion. "It's obvious from the mutation found in the brain. The organ itself is much smaller than the cranium, suggesting it has atrophied."

"As fascinating as the biology lesson is, we have work to do. Owen, if this lead pans out, you're going undercover. Lucky you." Jack dismissed his team, but Melissa stayed behind.

"Something bothering you?" he asked as she stared mutely at him.

"He's not ready to go undercover. His emotions are all over the place. Let me go instead."

"Are you forgetting that it's all men who've been killed? Would you rather I put Ianto in the field? His emotions are certainly under control."

Defending his decision, he gruffly added, "I'd go, but there were four men in a white van at the first warehouse. They saw me and Toshiko. After Ianto's report I can't risk it; we'd never get anywhere."

"I still don't like it," she affirmed.

Softening, he answered, "Neither do I, but I trust Owen, and you should too."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two days later, Owen went undercover as an importer of Norwegian salmon and roe who was looking to expand his business. It didn't take him long to make contact with the property agent. Once there, he managed to crack into the computers with a handy piece of alien technology, giving Tosh free access to the information stored within. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to go on, so he had to put up with the agent's subtle passes, which he subtly encouraged. Sometimes, he really hated his job.

At least the alcohol was numbing as he tried to repress his anger at Diane's betrayal. He really couldn't say how the bar brawl had started, but it felt extremely satisfying to beat his fists into someone who deserved it. At least he thought the guy deserved it, but maybe he had had too much to drink. Whatever, his actions seemed to impress Mark Lynch, who suddenly invited him to his flat.

God, Owen thought in disgust, if I have to sleep with him, I am going to make Jack pay. He could have done this instead. Of course, the Captain had a lot more to live for than he did these days, he acknowledged bitterly while downing another beer. Concentrating on his assignment, he spouted bullshit and then asked for the toilet.

Melissa stood in the shadows outside the building trying not to worry. She didn't think Owen was ready for undercover work, no matter what Jack had said. The least she could do was follow him and watch his back. He had saved Jack's life all those years ago at the school, and he deserved some backup now.

The fog was rolling in as Owen and Mark exited the building. Wherever they were going, they were driving, so she followed in her own vehicle a safe distance away. She wasn't surprised when they ended up at a warehouse, but she was taken aback by the number of men entering the building. Something wasn't adding up. It was time to call for reinforcements.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Owen wasn't entirely sure how events had spiraled out of control to the point that he was in a cage with a Weevil a la the Fight Club. Nor did he particularly care. All of a sudden, Torchwood didn't matter; Diane didn't matter; he was incredibly angry and ready to prove himself. If the alien was going to kill him, so be it; he wasn't going to die cowering in the corner. Staring, he began to let the creature know exactly who was boss.

Slipping into the warehouse with a come-hither smile and a promise of much more, Melissa watched Owen stare into the eyes of a Weevil. Jack had ordered her to wait for backup the moment he had stopped berating her for being stupid, but she had promptly ignored his order. She needed to see what was happening to Owen, and the only way to do that had been to enter the warehouse. Besides, she had the sonic, what could go wrong?

It was worse than she imagined. These idiots were using the Weevils for sport, a pointless test of testosterone, and Owen was smack dab in the middle. The cage was locked, and she had no way of knowing if he was a willing participant or a lamb for slaughter. Either way, she wasn't going to let him die.

Walking quietly through the crowd of men, she slowly made her way to the cage. Seeing Owen winning the staring contest for the moment, she decided not to distract him with useless questions. Taking the screwdriver, she opened the lock and slipped inside. Immediately changing her perception of time, she entered the frozen scene warily. She would have to be vigilant since the Weevils-she refused to think of them by their proper name-were time sensitive. The slightest loss of concentration and she and Owen would both be dead.

"Owen," she whispered as she matched his perception to hers.

"What the fuck?" he exclaimed in shock as he looked at the frozen crowd, Weevil and then her. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Rescuing you," she replied calmly as she struggled to maintain control. The Weevil was now moving towards them, although at a snail's pace.

"I don't need rescuing," he snapped angrily. "I was doing fine by myself."

"Perfect. I'll just stay here and watch you get mauled." She stood to the side of him, her hand touching his wrist, maintaining her focus on the Weevil, who was now moving just a tad bit faster.

"Christ, who are you, my mother? Get out of my way!" His rage, grief, frustration and drunkenness mixed in a dangerous combination, and Owen shoved her, hard.

As she fell backwards, the Weevil was already lunging, not at Owen, but at her. Faster than she could react, it was on top of her, claws ripping viciously down her left side, teeth inches away from tearing her throat. Only the high-pitched wail of the sonic screwdriver stopped the Weevil from killing her then and there. Instead, it backed slowly away, hands covering its ears as the sonic pitch tore through its eardrums.

Valiantly, she rose to her feet, keeping the screwdriver pointed at the creature. The small tool was the only thing keeping her and Owen alive. There was a roaring in her ears as she fought to stay aware with a punctured lung and bleeding she had no strength to slow. She never heard the shocked silence among the spectators, nor their stunned applause as she stayed upright far longer than anyone in the cage ever had. Still, no one moved to assist her. They were here for a night's entertainment, and she seemed to be it.

As the weight of the screwdriver became unbearable, she focused her attention on Owen, who was immobilized by the horror and guilt of what he had done. She wanted to tell him he was forgiven, that it wasn't really his fault, that this was a fitting punishment she deserved, but she couldn't spare the breath. Even now, her fingers were loosening their grip on the screwdriver and she wished desperately that she had carried a better weapon.

A gunshot rang out next to her, exploding the Weevil's head, but she was so focused on maintaining her tenuous hold that she scarcely noticed. Then, suddenly, she was lying on the ground. Something was being pressed hard against her side, and someone with incredibly intense blue eyes was bending over her, shouting at her, although she couldn't seem to make out the words.

Someone gripped her hand, and she spun around to see Jack running towards her.

"You shouldn't be here," she warned him as she attempted to unlock the deadlock seal on the bunker's doors one last time.

He noted that she was again dressed in a black military uniform, weapon in hand. She was pale, though, and blood was smeared on her face from a gash on her head, while she walked with a decided limp. "You need to come with me," he pleaded with her.

"I have duties here; you know that," she responded matter-of-factly, as if he should, indeed, understand what she was talking about.

Trying to make her comprehend that they were in her mind, he argued with her. "This isn't real. You have to focus. You're in an ambulance; you've been hurt, and I need you to breathe for me. Please, Sweetheart, you've got to wake up and breathe!"

Troubled, she looked at him quizzically. "You worry too much, Jack. I can go without breathing for a few minutes." As the bunker they were standing outside shuddered and the lights dimmed, she stumbled. "Get out of here. I don't know how much longer we have. This isn't your fight. I can't lose you, too."

Grasping at straws, he shouted at her. "Who have you lost, Melissa? Think! This is the past; it's not real. Who have you lost?"

"I," she began, and then blinked several times as the landscape changed. They were in an empty room lit by a bare bulb hanging from a chain on the ceiling. She was handcuffed to the wall, her lip split and bleeding.

"Jack?" she called out in concern when she realized where she was. "You really shouldn't be here."

"Then you need to focus and start breathing on your own," he urged her as he watched the ambulance in which they were speeding through town make a sharp right turn. "You're in an ambulance, Melissa! Not a cell! Focus!"

"I can't!" she gasped as the scene changed again to a bare room with closed doors.

"Then you are going to give Matthew and Susan a hell of a shock when you come home with a different face." Owen was frantically trying to get some sort of response from her, but even her hearts had stopped, and his panic was starting to scare the Captain.

Her already pale face blanched, and she weakly embraced him, putting her head on his chest. "I can't regenerate, Jack. We only get a finite number, and I burned, so many times. I don't have any lives left." Pulling away from him, she sat wearily on the cold, stone floor, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'll try; I promise, but you have got to go."

Terrified, he grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her. "You can't give up, do you hear me? You can't give up!"

Eyes closed, she didn't answer. Instead, he felt himself being pushed out of her mind. Heartbroken, he squeezed his own eyes shut in an effort to trap the tears that were spilling down his face. A few moments later, there was a hand on his arm, and he looked to see Owen's hopeful expression. "She's breathing, Captain!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Days later, Jack's devotion to the injured consultant was the basis of endless gossip in the Torchwood Hub. The Captain spent all his time at the hospital, leaving only to shower and eat, and then only when Owen ordered him to do so. When back at Torchwood during one of these enforced breaks, he was preoccupied, tense and unapproachable.

Gwen was left as the de facto head of the organization since Owen spent most of his waking hours tending to his patient and the rest in a haze of guilt. He had not yet had the courage to tell Jack what he had done in the cage, but he was determined to make it right in the only way he knew how. If that meant pushing himself to his limits, then so be it; it was more than he deserved.

Susan and Matthew saw their mother only in the dead of night, far beyond normal visiting hours and at a time when Gwen, Tosh and Ianto should be sleeping soundly in their beds or thwarting alien invasions.

On the third night, however, Ianto Jones was not sleeping, nor was he on Torchwood business. His task was very personal; he needed to speak to Jack, to understand how the man he had come to fear and then love could be so fickle. How could the man who had rebuilt Torchwood Cardiff from nothing simply turn his back on the organization he rescued for a stranger? Who was she?

It was very easy for someone used to skulking in shadows to make his way unnoticed to the floor where Owen kept the Torchwood hospital suite. The corridor was empty; Torchwood III did not have the personnel to post guards in hospitals as Torchwood I had done. The nurses' station was abandoned as Owen didn't trust outsiders with his patients. He should be able to talk to Jack in private at this late hour. About to walk into the room to confront his former lover, he stopped as unfamiliar voices carried out into the hall.

Swiftly moving to a corner where he could observe, but not easily be observed, he was shocked to see two teenagers in the room. The girl was tall, almost the Captain's height, her hair as red as the woman's lying unresponsive on the bed. Her daughter, then? That would make the boy her son, although with his blue eyes and straight dark hair, he must take after his father.

Curious, he decided to edge closer, hoping to hear some sort of explanation for their presence. For several minutes there was only silence; then, the girl spoke, "Do you think she'll wake up tomorrow?"

"I don't know, Sue. I don't think it works that way. Just because she was unconscious that long at Christmas, doesn't mean that it will be four days this time." Jack sounded tired and dejected. It was obvious to Ianto that he hadn't been sleeping. Perhaps he was so attentive in this instance because Melissa Morgan had children? Did he merely feel guilty for what had happened?

Another long silence descended upon the room, broken again by the girl. "Is Mom breathing any better? When will Dr. Harper take her off the oxygen?"

Having confirmed the relationship between the consultant and the teens in the room, Ianto leaned forward to hear what Jack would say. Neither he nor Owen had been very forthcoming with the consultant's condition, saying only that she was still unconscious.

"He tried to wean her off this morning, but her saturation levels went right back down to eighty-seven percent. I know it's hard, but we have to be patient and believe that she'll get better." Resolutely, he added, "When she does recover, she can go back to designing web pages. You two shouldn't have to go through this again."

The boy in the room gave a harsh laugh, freezing the Welshman in place. "Are you going to give it up, too, Dad, or are you forgetting that you almost died in front of us at Christmas? We saved your life with a blood transfusion, remember?"

Reeling, Ianto strained to hear Jack's reply as the Captain spoke gently to the teenagers. He should have recognized the relationship immediately; the boy was much like a younger, leaner version of his boss, but the thought of the Captain having children had never crossed his mind.

"I remember, and I'm sorry I put you through that, but I can't give this up, not with the Doctor gone. The world needs Torchwood now more than ever."

Quietly, but full of conviction, the girl responded. "We know, and we wouldn't want you to, but Mom thinks the same way you do. She's not going to give it up, not now, not when she can make a difference."

"Besides," her brother finished sadly, "she'd just go out and do things on her own. At least this way, you two can watch out for each other."

There was no verbal response to that, and the silence stretched again in the room. His mind in turmoil, Ianto carefully backed away. Even now, part of him wanted to rush in and demand an explanation. How had Jack of all people ended up with a family?

Walking slowly out of the hospital building, he came to a decision. Captain Jack Harkness might be unobtainable as a lover, but Ianto couldn't deny how much he cared for the man who by rights should have killed him the night Lisa rampaged the Hub. He would keep his secrets, and perhaps one day, he could again count Jack among his friends.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Jack?"

The croaked whisper startled Owen, who dropped the book he had been reading. Reaching the bed, he examined his patient, relieved to see that she was conscious, although groggy.

"Shit," he said, not unkindly. "You would wake up as soon as I make the Captain leave to get some sleep in a real bed." Louder, he called, "Melissa, it's Owen, not Jack. Do you understand me?"

"Owen," she slurred. "Okay?"

"I'm fine," he promised, understanding her question. "Not a scratch on me." Remorseful, he continued, "God, I'm sorry. I was so angry when I pushed you. I never thought the Weevil would go after you."

"My fault," she whispered tiredly, hands weakly trying to pull at the oxygen tube.

"None of that," he instructed as he gently grasped her hands. She seemed to struggle for a moment, but soon relaxed as sleep or unconsciousness overtook her once again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Jack?"

A warm hand squeezed hers as she felt a tender kiss on her forehead. Struggling to open her eyes, she squeezed the hand back as best she could. "Jack," she sighed contentedly as she drifted somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

"You have definitely slept long enough, Sleeping Beauty." Bending over, he kissed her on the lips, deepening the kiss as her mouth responded in kind.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and gave him a feeble smile. "Bet my breath is as bad as Shakespeare's right now."

"I've had worse," he grinned, thrilled that she was awake after six days. As she began to pull at the oxygen tube, however, he became serious once again. "Stop that," he ordered as he grabbed her hands.

Already weakening as the dizziness threatened to overwhelm her once again, she fought against him. "Needs out," she mumbled, her eyes drooping closed.

"Nice try, but your oxygen levels are too low without it." He relaxed as she stopped fighting and her arms went limp.

Frustrated and disoriented, she wasn't sure if she had the energy to speak out loud, but she put every ounce of effort she could summon to attempt a reply. "Not . . . too. . . low. . .. for . . . me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Jack?"

"Right here," he assured her as he reached for her hand.

Opening her eyes, she turned towards him and gave him a warm smile. "That could have gone better," she remarked ruefully as she slowly sat up in the bed.

Hoping she wasn't talking about the Weevil, because he did not want to yell at her so soon after her recovery, he focused on her medical treatment. "Owen feels horrible about what happened. Once I called him, he realized that you had tried to remove the oxygen tube two days before. We debated for a while, and then removed the tube. Your oxygen levels dropped to eighty-seven percent for twenty hours, then slowly started to rise. It reached one hundred about an hour ago. He theorizes it has something to do with how your body heals."

Nodding in agreement, she realized that her physiology was the last thing she wanted to discuss. Really, she just wanted a hug and to see her kids. And a shower. A toothbrush and change of clothes. Food. Not such a bad wish list, she thought.

Halfway through her introspection, she got her first wish. Jack had her in a firm embrace, his head resting against her shoulder. "I love you," he affirmed, his voice cracking with unshed tears, "but you will be the death of me. Don't do anything so stupid again."

"I want to go home," she replied, knowing better than to make a promise she couldn't keep.

Sighing, he picked up a bag containing her clothes and toiletries and handed it to her. "Do you need help showering?" There was no trace of innuendo in his voice, just concern.

Standing gingerly, she assessed her condition. "I'll be fine. There's not even a scar. Luckily, we can blame that on the tissue regenerator." Practically chipper, she went into the tiny bathroom and started the water.

Jack was already on the phone making arrangements for her homecoming with Susan and Matthew. Then, he called Owen, who was performing an autopsy on an alien who had come through the Rift the day before and inexplicably died while in Torchwood custody. Knowing Owen would inform the rest of his team, he made a final call to a Thai takeaway place that Melissa particularly liked.

Owen, being Owen, brusquely informed Gwen, Ianto and Tosh that Melissa was awake and being discharged.

"Bit sudden, isn't it?" Gwen asked, wondering how someone who had been unconscious over a week could be healthy enough to be on her own.

"Yeah, well, the Captain's going to help out for a day or two," he replied curtly, his hands full of alien intestines.

"Maybe we could all help," Tosh offered, keen to be a part of the group.

Before Owen could dissuade her, Ianto spoke up. "That's probably best left to Jack. He does have the best bedside manner of any of us." As the doctor stared at him in shock, he added quickly, "Including yours, Owen."

"Not all of us can be bloody Captain Jack Harkness, and thank God for that," he replied, wondering about Ianto's abrupt change of attitude.

The group drifted off to work on their own projects as Owen finished the autopsy. Closing the autopsy incisions, he did not hear Gwen's hushed conversation with Toshiko about the mysterious new woman in the Hub. Task finished, he hurried to complete the report so he could join the homecoming party as soon as possible.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Owen left the Hub, Gwen was still hovering around Tosh's workstation, a speculative look on her face. "I'm glad to hear she's going to be okay; don't get me wrong, Tosh, but we know less about her than we do about Jack. Why is he being so nice to her?"

"You mean besides the obvious?" Tosh retorted, slightly jealous of the woman's stunning beauty.

"Besides that," she agreed. "Jack cares about all of us. What he did after those cannibals proves that. But, he has completely ignored anything work related while she's been in hospital, and don't forget he disappeared at Christmas with her, either. I want to know what's so special about her."

"Well," Tosh offered hesitantly, "we can search for her name like we searched for Jack's. I just wish we had more information; Melissa Morgan's not all that uncommon as a name, especially in a country as large as the United States."

Encouraged by Tosh's proposal, Gwen readily agreed. "Jack said she's from Colorado. We need to find out as much as we can about this woman. They obviously have a past, and I am tired of not knowing Jack's bloody secrets."

Already typing commands into her computer, Tosh looked up to see Ianto watching them. "Come on over, Ianto. We're doing a background check on the new girl."

Alarmed, but maintaining his outer composure, Ianto challenged them as soon as he saw what Tosh was doing. "Don't you think Jack would disapprove?"

"Jack doesn't have to know, Ianto," Gwen lectured. Sometimes the archivist could be such a prude. "Aren't you curious to find out why Jack's been acting so strangely since he brought her here?"

"No," he answered honestly.

"Well, I want to know why's he's paying more attention to her than work. I think it could be important."

Gwen could be so obstinate at times. "Maybe he loves her," he challenged, hoping to convince Tosh, at least, to drop the search.

Stung, Gwen retorted "Get real, Ianto. Jack doesn't love anyone."

Knowing that he wasn't going to convince either one of them to stop, he merely commented, "Remember, I thought this was a bad idea." Then they all three waited nervously for the computer to finish its search.

Fifty minutes later, the program Tosh had created to track Melissa's life finished running. Gwen and Ianto waited impatiently as she began to sift through the information. "That's odd," she said as the most recent data displayed on the screen. "She is listed on the U.S. Internal Revenue Service's rolls as a taxpayer in 2005, but that's the first and only year she paid taxes."

"So, where'd she get her money?" Gwen asked.

"Checking." Tosh peered at the screen in surprise. "Well, that's strange. Before May of 2005, there's no financial record for her at all. No loans, credit cards, bank accounts, nothing."

"Maybe her name's an alias, like Jack's," Gwen offered.

"Uh-oh," Tosh continued as she typed frantically.

"What's wrong?" Ianto asked nervously. He half expected Jack to storm into the Hub at any moment, demanding they stop what they were doing.

"UNIT's got a flag on her bank account. I can't access it without alerting them."

"Can you hack into UNIT and find out why?"

"Already doing it. Let's see, financial surveillance. Here we are. Melissa Morgan's bank account was flagged because . . . oh, this is interesting."

"What?" Gwen demanded impatiently.

"The deposit used to start her account was a transfer of funds from the account of UNIT's former scientific advisor to the sum of one million, two hundred thousand pounds."

"Didn't know UNIT paid that well," Ianto joked nervously.

"That's not why the account was flagged. The scientific advisor's name was Dr. John Smith."

"That was the Doctor's alias," the archivist stated with a calm he didn't feel. "Maybe this has gone far enough. It can't be a coincidence that she showed up here the day after the Doctor was killed."

Gwen felt she was missing something important. "Why would Jack's doctor give Melissa over a million quid?"

"What do you mean, Jack's Doctor?" Ianto asked, both he and Toshiko looking at Gwen in puzzlement.

"When I first started working for Torchwood, Jack told me he was looking for the right kind of doctor. Then, two weeks ago, I asked him if his doctor and the Doctor were the same person. He admitted they were." Gwen was on dangerous ground, and she knew it. She had no intention of betraying Jack and tell the others about his inability to die, at least not yet.

Tosh, who had continued to sift through UNIT information, gave a loud gasp and nearly fell out of her seat. "That's impossible!"

"What?" Gwen and Ianto demanded in unison.

"They're married!"

"Who's married? What are you on about Tosh?" Gwen was trying to decide why anyone, even an alien, would give someone a million quid. Had Melissa been married to the Doctor?

"Jack and Melissa," Tosh announced as if it should have been obvious. "There's an entire UNIT file devoted to her, and it was updated recently. UNIT searched her house and found a marriage certificate dated October 24, 2005, but that's impossible." Pausing to scrutinize the record, she added in shock, "And the presiding official is listed as a Dr. John Smith."

"Why is it impossible?" Ianto asked, somewhat surprised at the recent date. The fact that the Doctor had been involved was really too much to take in, so he focused on the one fact that didn't fit the scene he had witnessed in the hospital.

As Ianto and Gwen listened attentively, Tosh tried to explain. "In October of 2005, Jack was here in Cardiff. The Rift spat out several fat, green, ugly toad-like aliens right into the Hub. They were poisonous, and Jack was attacked before Suzie could shoot them. He spent the rest of that month in hospital with oozing wounds while Owen tried to figure out the antidote."

"And you're sure about the date," Gwen prodded.

"It's not something I will forget anytime soon." A moment later, Tosh was startled again. "I can't believe I missed this when I traced Jack the first time! They have kids!"

"What?" With a lurch, Gwen realized she didn't know her boss at all, nor could she imagine the flirty, intense and dangerous man as a father.

"It's odd, though. According to UNIT, their children were born in 1991. None of these dates are making sense. And that's the last of the data, except a notation about some sort of medical scanner being faulty at UNIT headquarters the night the Doctor died. She was supposedly born in New Orleans, so her records would be lost, if they existed in the first place."

"What do we do now?" Gwen asked hesitantly. This went well beyond finding out that Jack and Melissa had been involved in an old affair.

"Nothing," Ianto announced authoritatively. "We'll be lucky if Jack doesn't retcon us into oblivion when he finds out." Walking away from the two women, he headed for the secure archives to check the Doctor's file. He had finally remembered a key piece to the puzzle, even if the others had not. The Doctor had been a time traveler.


	33. Assumptions, Lies and Trust

Author's Notes - Thanks to padmay97 and Mary Mathesen for the reviews. I split this chapter in two from the original because it was so long. There's much more action in the second half.

* * *

><p>"I should have ordered more takeout." Jack watched Melissa pile a plate full and then some with her favorite Thai food. Not that he was complaining about her taking more than her fair share. He had been appalled when he had seen her in the hospital dressed in her own clothes. The jeans she usually wore around the house were so loose that he had had to fashion a belt for her out of twine nicked from the florist's shop downstairs.<p>

"We can put a frozen pizza in the oven," Matthew offered as he, too, watched his mother heap noodles on her already overburdened plate.

"That would be great. Owen should be by in the next few minutes and I doubt he's eaten today." Jack took a very small portion of rice and green chicken curry to put on his own plate. After a week or sitting anxiously in a hospital, he didn't have much of an appetite.

Susan noticed his unusually empty plate and offered, "Want a spring roll to go with that? They're pretty good."

"Maybe later. I had a big lunch." Smiling, he asked her how her studies were going just to change the subject.

"Taking courses on the Internet sucks," Matthew opined before his sister could make her own thoughts known. "I want to go to a real school."

"Fine," his mother answered between bites, surprising her children. "But it will take a while. Jack will have to forge a few things so we can get you two registered."

"Actually, I have British documents for all three of you, gifts from Her Majesty-if you don't mind using the last name Harkness?" Noting Matthew's ready agreement, he continued, "Great. We'll get you registered for school day after tomorrow."

Remaining silent when Jack mentioned work, Melissa could feel the tension building. However, she decided to ignore it while Susan and Matthew were at the table. Besides, she was hungry, and that trumped every other concern at the moment. They could argue over her role at Torchwood in private.

Owen soon knocked on the door, and after some grumbles about missing out on the Thai food, he gratefully ate half the pizza Matthew had cooked. "Thanks, by the way," he told them as he ate, "I never did get lunch. Spent all my time trying to determine how that alien we had in custody died."

"No idea?" Jack asked, troubled that the team might somehow be responsible for the death. Gwen had assured him that they hadn't injured it, but she had acted so nervous and just plain weird over the phone that he began to suspect she was hiding something.

"A few guesses, but nothing concrete. Take a look yourself." Throwing him the hard copy file, Owen took another slice of pizza.

Jack looked at the autopsy results for a few minutes, but didn't comment. He didn't see any obvious cause of death from the file, and didn't recognize the species. Frustrated, he closed the folder.

"May I?" The atmosphere electrified as Melissa made her request. The twins did their best to melt into the background and Owen held his breath. Jack ungraciously tossed the file in her direction.

Knowing she had won a battle, but not the war, she glanced quickly at the report. "Torchwood did nothing wrong. The alien would have died no matter what."

"How do you know that?" Jack asked, interested in spite of himself.

"He was a Cralf. His species live on a planet with an atmospheric pressure five times that of Earth. It was only a matter of time before the change in pressure killed him."

She shrugged as she saw the kids staring at her like she was an exotic pet behind a wall of glass. "What? I told you the watch gave me my memories back."

"Yeah," Matthew agreed. "We just didn't know you were going to end up with the Encyclopedia Galactica in your head. That's just feakin' weird."

"Thanks, son. You always know how to make me feel better." She replied sarcastically, then ruffled his hair to show him she was teasing.

"I didn't say it was bad, just weird. Kinda like your healing superpower." He grabbed the last piece of pizza and started to eat it, wondering all the while how anyone could consider corn a legitimate pizza topping.

"She shouldn't need to use her healing superpower, Matt," Jack remarked flatly, more than ready to argue that he was tired of seeing her at death's door.

Knowing sparks were soon to fly, Owen spoke up. "If you don't mind waiting to have World War III until I leave, I need to check and make sure the extra oxygen had no lasting effects. Melissa, mind if I examine you in your bedroom?"

"As long as Jack does the dishes." She glanced at her partner, making it clear that she wished to be alone with Owen.

Putting on a false, cheery smile for the sake of Susan and Matthew, he answered easily. "I'd be happy to. And I know of some teenagers who would be more than willing to help me. Right kids?" Grumbling, the teens began to clear dishes from the table as Owen led their mother down the hall.

Lying down, she let Owen check her lung and side. "Everything looks fine, no thanks to me. You might want to take it easy for a week or two around the office. Even with the tissue regenerator, a human who had suffered your injuries would be sore, weak and tired."

The exam over, she buttoned her shirt and sat up. "So, you think he'll let me go back to Torchwood."

"Does he get a choice?" he asked with a small smirk on his face.

"No," she confirmed, a hint of pride in her voice.

Changing his demeanor, he gave her some advice. "Just don't be too hard on him. You've been seriously injured twice since you arrived, and if you were human, you'd be dead. He only wants to keep you safe."

"He doesn't understand, Owen."

"Maybe not, or maybe he understands more than you want him to. Either way, I'm out of here. For once I'm going to get a decent night's sleep because I'm sure everything will go to shit by the morning."

Smiling in amusement, she walked him to the door.

Happy to have their mother back home, and knowing how tired Jack must be, Susan and Matthew begged for a movie night. They let the adults settle on the sofa while they sat on pillows on the floor. Susan was relieved to see that her mother and Jack sat hand in hand. Ten minutes into the movie, she glanced back to see Jack scowling at the screen.

"You don't like the _Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure_, Jack?"

"What? No, it's fine," he answered gruffly, sounding distracted.

Appeased, she turned her attention back to the TV, wondering if the writer had ever met the Doctor. The telephone booth was awfully close to a police box, even if it wasn't bigger on the inside. Towards the end, she again looked back to check on her mother, and saw she was sleeping contentedly on Jack's shoulder. He, at least, must have decided he liked the movie after all, although Susan wondered why he had such a dopey grin on his face.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

His team was weird. Or, possibly, they were possessed by aliens. Jack hadn't decided which, but he was leaning towards weird since Owen seemed to be his normal, sarcastic self. The others, however, were acting like they expected him to sprout a second head. He'd caught them staring at him at odd moments all morning long. Ianto had even spoken to him congenially, the first time since Christmas Day. Perhaps they were just glad to see him finally doing his job. Deciding to ask Tosh about the ghost sightings detailed in the morning report, he left his office to find her at her workstation frowning over some recent Rift activity.

"Jack!" She practically jumped when he walked up behind her. "I was going over these calculations," she explained guiltily, holding up a printout from the computer. "There seems to be some odd patterns emerging, especially at that derelict club where we've been getting reports of ghostly music."

"Sounds like my kind of place." He grinned, then stopped when she did not smile back. "Don't like ghosts, Toshiko?"

"I love a good ghost story," she answered self-consciously. "I, uh, was just wondering how Melissa was doing. She designed the new Rift program I'm using."

"She's doing fine," he grinned happily. "She needs to rest, but she'll be in around noon to say hello." He had lost that war the night before, while watching TV with the children in the living room. At least she had been gracious in her victory. If all Time Lords had been that experienced, then the Doctor had really been holding out on him. Incredible didn't begin to describe it.

Focusing on the present, he asked, "Where's Gwen? She was supposed to meet me downstairs an hour ago for weapons practice."

Suddenly nervous, Tosh started typing on her keyboard. "I think she's talking to Owen about yesterday's autopsy." More likely grilling Owen about what he knew about Melissa and Jack, she thought guiltily.

Glad to be back at work, Jack decided that Gwen's training could wait and that he could temporarily ignore whatever antics were going on in the Hub. Taking his leave from Tosh, he went into his office, humming quietly to himself. The paperwork had really piled up in a little over a week, but he wasn't going to let it bother him today. Just as he wondered if he dared ask for a cup of coffee, Ianto knocked on the door.

"Ianto! Come on in." Jack greeted the Welshman exuberantly. "You must have a sixth sense. I was wondering if I could get a cup of coffee. You're looking particularly good, by the way. New suit?"

"I bought it last week." He lied easily, not wanting Jack to know he had been keeping it in the closet at home for months waiting to impress him. "Can I talk to you, sir?"

"No problem." He was relieved that the archivist had resolved his jealousy issues on his own. "Do you mind if I get some coffee first? I need some caffeine."

"Let me, sir," Ianto offered, knowing Jack would be less volatile after a cup of his coffee. He really didn't know how his boss was going to react to what he felt he had to say.

Letting Jack drink his coffee in peace, he spoke of trivial things. There were still dark circles under the Captain's eyes, and Ianto almost postponed his talk, but he knew Jack had to be warned soon. Gwen's faith in him was shaken and Tosh was as nervous as a cat. While the Rift had been relatively quiet in the weeks since Christmas, it had been increasingly active in the past few days. The team needed to be united, or one of them was likely to be killed.

After listening to Jack explain why the alien had died yesterday, Ianto nervously cleared his throat. "I need to speak to you, Jack."

"You're repeating yourself, Ianto, isn't talking why you came in here in the first place?" He was still smiling, but the young man suddenly had his undivided attention.

"Yes, it's just, difficult to know how to start." He straightened his tie in a nervous gesture and stood a little taller.

"Start by sitting down," the Captain suggested as he realized that whatever the archivist had to say, it was bothering him quite a lot.

"Thank you." As he sat stiffly in the chair, he realized that even now he had no idea what to say first. Luckily, his boss took his decision out of his hands.

"Is this about Melissa?"

"Somewhat," Ianto admitted, hoping Jack would not think this was motivated by petty jealousy.

As Jack studied Ianto, he came to a decision. Speaking earnestly, he confided in his former lover. "She's my wife, Ianto. It's very complicated, and to be honest I never thought I would see her again, but I should have told you when you asked the first time. You, of all people, deserved to know. I'm sorry."

Relaxing, he decided that Jack's admission was a positive sign. Maybe he wouldn't be angry when his boss realized that he knew his other secret. "I've been reading the Doctor's file."

Nonplussed, Jack's reaction was sharper than he had intended. "Where the hell did you get a hold of that?"

"I needed it to confirm a few facts," he replied blandly.

Suddenly grave, the Captain leaned forward in his chair. "This is Torchwood III, Ianto, not Torchwood I. Before you say another word, I want you to think about the one warning I gave you the day you started working for me."

Once again, his nervousness began to show. "The Doctor is dead. I'm not trying to track him down. Your secrets are destroying the team, and it's time you started to trust us. I've been through the secure archives. I've read all the old records, and I know how long you've worked for Torchwood. Reading between the lines, I also know how many times you saved the Doctor from capture by the organization."

Sitting very still, the leader of Torchwood quietly remarked. "I would have thought that being married was a big enough secret for you, Ianto. Just what do you think I'm still hiding?"

Pleased that the Captain was taking everything so calmly, Ianto replied, "It's apparent you're a Time Lord, sir."

Jack's first reaction was to burst out laughing, but years of training helped him to keep his expression completely passive. His second thought was that rumors and gossip must have been spiraling out of control during the week he and Owen had been preoccupied with saving Melissa's life. Finally, he admitted that he should have seen something like this coming. After all, he had given Ianto access to the entire archives; it was not the man's fault that he had come to the wrong conclusion. He had hoped for more time, but it was obvious that he would have to trust his team today. He just hoped they were willing to trust him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

One hour later, the tension in the conference room was palpable as Owen helped a seemingly frail Melissa up the stairs. "Thank you, Owen," Jack acknowledged as the medic assisted her into a chair at the opposite end of the table.

Giving his wife an encouraging smile, he addressed the group. "First of all, I want to officially introduce all of you to my wife, Melissa Morgan Harkness. Melissa looked up at them briefly, hesitantly meeting everyone's gaze; then, she looked down at her lap once again, while Owen gave her a sympathetic pat on her shoulder.

Standing, Jack paced as much as the small space would allow. "I know I've been keeping secrets from everyone. I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt anyone of you. Everything I've hidden about myself, I did it to protect my family." Grinning from ear to ear, he continued proudly. "That's right. I said family. We have sixteen year old twins, a son and a daughter. Sobering, he again sat down, pushing his chair back so he could see everyone's faces.

The story he was about to tell was a kernal of truth with a healthy dose of lie, concocted to protect the twins as much as Melissa. They hadn't fooled UNIT just to out her officially as a Time Lord now. Owen knew, of course, and the Brigadier, but as that number grew, the potential that her secret be revealed increased exponentially. He wasn't ready to take that chance. Bad enough he was going to have to reveal his own secret. Hoping they could accept the official story, he began.

"A very, very long time ago, I travelled with the Doctor. We landed in Colorado in May 2005 on a mountain near Pike's Peak. We found Melissa and her children unconscious, laying on the trail, a dead man with a gun about ten feet away."

A small sob escaped from her lips, and Jack crossed the room to crouch beside her. "You don't have to be here," he assured her gently as he took her hands in his. "I can tell them everything." Uncomfortable watching such tender displays from the Captain, his team looked on in awkward silence.

Shaking with emotion, she gathered her courage. "I need to be here. I can do this, Jack."

Reassured, he stood next to her to continue his tale. "The dead man was from an organization called Torchwood, an organization at the time I knew nothing about. He had been hunting Melissa and her children for almost a week when he trapped them on a mountain called Bad Wolf Summit. She was cornered and the man threatened to kill Susan and Matthew if she refused to go with him. She did what any mother would do; she protected her children."

"I killed him, Jack," she murmured quietly, though loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone's attention was riveted on her as she continued unwillingly. "I didn't mean to, but I knew what people like him were capable of and I was so scared. I killed him with my mind."

"You did what you had to do," he assured her, picking up the narrative. "Melissa was a strong telepath, and she had been in Torchwood custody before. She panicked and unleashed a psychic attack that killed the agent, rendered her and the children unconscious, and also damaged her brain severely enough that she no longer has any psychic ability. Not that the Doctor and I knew that at the time. All we saw were three people who needed help.

Squeezing her hand, he continued. "When she woke up and saw me, she, well, let's just say that she made it very clear the nature of our relationship." As he saw Gwen's look of confusion, he tried to clarify. "You have to understand; I was a time traveler. Things didn't always happen to me in the right order. I was surprised to learn that I had a relationship with her, and shocked when I found out that we had two children."

She gave him a small smile. "You seemed to take it all in stride."

"Yeah, well, you know me."

"Wait," Gwen ordered, still confused. "Do I understand you, Jack? You're telling us that the first time you met your wife was fifteen years after you had two children with her?"

"Isn't time travel great?" he grinned.

"Bloody hell, and I thought my life was complicated," Owen commented.

"To avoid a paradox, the Doctor made sure that Melissa didn't tell us too much about the situation we found her in. Nor did he let her talk to me about how we had met. She let slip that I had rescued her, and that was the only thing I was to know for a very long time. We stayed in Colorado for a few weeks, helping her with a new identity. The Doctor even bought her a house after he convinced us that money wasn't important to him. We didn't tell Susan and Matthew I was their father since they had never seen me before. Then, we left, and I thought I'd never see her again."

"When did you meet her a second time?" Tosh asked eagerly, caught up in the story.

"A few months later. The Doctor had given her his phone number, and Susan used it to call us when Melissa had an adverse reaction to a painkiller. He saved her life, again, and I decided to stay with the three of them for a while to help them while she recovered."

Voice husky with emotion, he added, "When I almost lost her, I realized how much I loved her, and found out that we had never been married. So, the Doctor took care of that for us. We told the kids who I was, and they seemed to accept it fairly well. I stayed for a while, but we all knew that I had to leave eventually to meet Melissa in her past. The Doctor gave us three months together before he made me leave. I didn't want to go, but I looked forward to meeting her again, although it would be for her first time." Bleakly, he finished, "If I had known how bad it was going to be, I'm not sure I could have done it."

This time, it was Melissa who comforted him. "It wasn't your fault, Jack."

With visible effort, she took up the narrative. "When I was seventeen, my grandfather gave me a trip to London as a college graduation present. I was stupid and naive, and didn't believe anything could hurt me. I met some people in a pub one night near Canary Wharf. They were young and fun to be around, and we drank and played darts. I started showing off, asking them to think of a number and guessing correctly each time. I amazed my new friends, who bought another round to honor my achievement." Tonelessly, she added, "The next memory I have is of waking up in a room, restrained to a bed, a low dose of sedatives continuously pumped into my bloodstream.

"Shit," Ianto swore to himself. He could guess the next part of her story. The rumors were rife at Torchwood I about black ops that were never put in written records. Some said that aliens were housed in the sub-basement levels, others hinted that Torchwood preyed upon humans with unique abilities.

She started to twist the shirt-tail of her blouse into a tight wad. "They couldn't use me with the drugs in my system; my mind was too muddled. So one day I woke up alert in a dimly lit room. It was empty, just smooth walls and a cold concrete floor, and no one came to give me food or drink. I don't know how long I stayed there; it must have been days. I just know that by the time they let me out, I thought I was ready to do anything if they promised not to send me back."

Pausing, she twisted her shirt in the other direction, not looking at anyone for a time. When she began again, she spoke so quietly that the Torchwood team had to lean forward to hear her. "But I was wrong. They made me rip into the mind of an alien they had captured. She was just a kid, like me; she just wanted to go home. But they didn't care. They wanted her to explain the ship's engine. She couldn't; she just knew how to pilot it. They told me to look harder to see what secrets she was hiding, and I ended up killing her. I told them no, that I wouldn't do that again, so this time they beat me before they put me back into the room and turned the lights on so bright that I couldn't sleep."

Gwen put her hand on Melissa's arm in a gesture of sympathy, but she flinched violently and hunched down in her chair. Owen started to go to her, but Jack shook his head, and after a minute, she spoke again. "I killed twelve people while I was in their custody, some aliens, some human. Each time I swore would be the last and each time I ended up being persuaded to kill again. I hated what I had become; hated the vile things I saw in the heads of most of my victims, and the even viler things I glimpsed in the minds of my captors. Towards the end, I just wanted to die. And that's when Jack rescued me."

All eyes snapped to Jack, who was rigid with anger, arms folded protectively across his chest. "I hope you understand now why I kept my family's existence a secret, and why I've been keeping another secret from all of you."

"Jack, no!" she wailed in fear, half rising from the chair.

Standing up, he gazed intently at his wife. "I'm sorry, but I have to tell them. Gwen knows already, and Ianto's started to put the pieces together." Defeated, she sank back down. Turning to his team, he said solemnly, "I can't die."

"What the fuck does that mean, Captain?" Owen demanded, completely taken by surprise by the one revelation Jack had not mentioned to him beforehand.

"It means, Owen," Gwen told him in an annoyed tone of voice, "that Suzie shot him in the head, blowing his brains out, and not two minutes later, he stood up, head intact, and shot her just before she was going to kill me. He can't die."

Feeling angry and betrayed, the physician ranted, "So why the fuck did I bother patching you up? What kind of sick game were you playing at Christmas, then?"

"It's not a game, Owen," he answered, eyes glinting in anger, his voice deadly calm.

Before he could explain further, Ianto spoke up. "Prove it. Take your gun and shoot yourself."

As Tosh gasped, Jack roared, "If that'll help you understand, then I will!" Angrily, he took his gun out of its holster.

"Stop it!" Melissa screamed, abruptly standing in front of her husband. "I won't let you do that! This isn't some game, and I will take the kids and run again if you don't make them understand that!" Enraged, she turned to Ianto. "Are you so angry at him for choosing me that you want him to die?"

As the Welshman dropped her stare, she whirled to face Owen. "I care for you very much, Owen Harper, but you can be a stupid ape sometimes! Jack feels pain! He has real injuries! He doesn't heal instantaneously unless he dies. And that sick game at Christmas was him trying to save my life and not scare our children! They've only known him from before this happened. They have no idea of what he's been through since the last time we saw him!"

She glared at all of them, ranting and shaking in rage. Gone was the shy, demure, weak woman they had witnessed just a few minutes ago. In her place, stood an avenging harpy. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't some parlor trick; it's a curse! So far into the future the date would be meaningless to you, Jack died helping to save the human race. But a shop girl with the power of a goddess brought him back to life, forever! When Torchwood found him, they killed him, over and over and over again, until they gave him a choice, join the organization or face an eternity of experimentation. He will outlive me! He will outlive our children, and their children, and their children's descendants! But I will not let you treat the man I love like some kind of freak!

Melissa was still shaking in rage as Owen, Tosh, Ianto and Gwen shamefully began to mumble apologies. Jack attempted to comfort her, but she pushed his arms aside, stalking towards the door to the conference room. She made it about three steps, before collapsing to the floor, hitting her head on the edge of the table as she fell.

Immediately at her side, Jack tried to check her vital signs as the rest of his team stood immobilized in stunned disbelief. Owen was the first to recover, pushing the Captain out of the way as he began to make his own medical assessment.

Alarmed, he shouted at Toshiko. "Get the defibrillator, Tosh! The rest of you clear out, and that means you, too, Captain!" Wanting to argue, Jack saw the look of intense concentration on Owen's face, and decided he would do what the doctor ordered, at least for a few minutes.

As they huddled at the bottom of the stairs to wait, he sat heavily on the steps, resting his head in his hands. Gwen awkwardly tried to apologize. "I think I understand now why you want me to hang onto my life outside Torchwood, Jack. I'm sorry you haven't always been able to do the same." Ianto, however, just stared at him, his expression unreadable."

Looking up, he gave her an ironic smile, "Yeah, my life's definitely complicated."

Tosh came out of the room, giving Jack a fierce hug as he stood to ask about Melissa. "Owen wants to see you."

Taking the stairs two at a time, he raced into the room. "She had a heart attack, Captain," the doctor reported gravely. "Her left heart stopped beating and the right slowed significantly. I guess she hadn't recovered as well as we had thought, and the emotional toll was just too much. I know you warned me in advance, but it's difficult to comprehend what Torchwood did to her. She also has a concussion, and, frankly, I have no idea how that will affect her."

Remorseful, he blamed himself. "Thing is, this is my fault. She'd be much better off if I weren't around. Hell, maybe all of you would be."

"Don't," Jack commanded, "just don't. It's not your fault, so stop blaming yourself." Truly apprehensive, he asked, "Are you still willing to keep her secret? If not, I should probably confess that one, too."

"I'm her doctor. Keeping her secret is part of my job, although I'd love to know how Torchwood London was lucky enough to catch an actual Time Lord and keep it under wraps."

As he watched the Captain hover over his unconscious wife, Owen stood up, emotionally drained. "Christ, there's not even a proper bed in this place. Can you carry her to the sofa? I don't think we need to take her to hospital just now; her pulse rates have stabilized.

Picking up his wife, who still weighed much less than she should, he carried her down the steps and laid her gently on the sofa. At least Owen found a pillow for her this time. Holding Melissa's hand, Jack sat on the very edge of the sofa and faced his team, who had gathered uncertainly around him.

"Take a day and think about what I told you. If you're not comfortable working for me anymore, I promise I won't retcon you."

"What would you do, Jack?" Gwen nervously asked for the group.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at each one of them before answering. "We would have to run. Without the Doctor, the world needs Torchwood more than ever. But without Torchwood behind me, my children would be lab rats if anyone found out about my inability to stay dead. They haven't inherited my curse, but we don't want anyone testing that." Tenderly stroking Melissa's cheek, he ordered, "Go home, all of you. I'll be waiting for your answer here at noon tomorrow."

Before anyone else could speak, Owen intruded with a question of his own. "I have to know one thing, Captain. Melissa said in there that unless you die, you heal at a normal rate. But in Colorado, when you were seriously wounded, you were well enough to retcon me and drive just a few hours later. How do you account for that?"

A hint of a proper smile flickered on Jack's face. "I thought you would have worked that one out on your own, Owen. I crossed my own timeline when I found out that there were eighteen Parflicans at the school and not the twelve I remembered. There were two of me there that day, and you saved the younger me, who, by the way, was not immortal at that time. So, I guess I should thank you for truly saving my life."

Rubbing his face, he wearily made his request again before the others could interrogate him about the attack on the school. "Go on, go home. I really want you all to think about this."

"I don't need to think about it, sir. I already know my answer." Ianto stood stiffly in front of Jack, slightly apart from the group.

Resigned, he nodded. "I had hoped you might change your mind, but I understand. You worked for Yvonne, after all."

"After Lisa, I probably deserved that, but my answer remains the same. You are Torchwood, sir. I couldn't imagine doing this without you. You've got over a century of experience; experience we're going to need now more than ever. I'm with you, and I hope one day you and your family will count me as a friend."

Overcome by emotion, Jack could only whisper, "Thank you."

"You saved me, Jack," Tosh told him earnestly as Ianto took a step back. "How could I be upset that you saved her? You're still the boss, as far as I'm concerned." She gave him a quick hug before retreating to her computer station.

"I think you know my answer already, Captain. Not that you can't be a complete bastard at times, but I'm with you, and Melissa. And that only leaves you, Gwen." Owen put the former police constable on the spot.

After a moment of silence, Gwen demanded, "No more secrets, Jack. We deserve to know the truth, and the reasons you do the things you do. If you can promise me that, then I will take your orders."

"Gwen," he began, exasperated that she, of all people, had decided to give him an ultimatum.

"No arguments. Either you keep us informed, or I walk. Since the others have already agreed to accept you as Torchwood's leader, then I'm willing to be retconned if you say no. But I am not going to accept a 'because I said so' from you again."

It was only at the end when his jaw clenched that Gwen realized there was a possibility that her boss would make her forget. Crossing her arms, she was determined to see it through, however.

"Since you put it like that, Gwen, I guess I have no choice."

All eyes were on him in that instant as he paused to make her squirm for a second or two.

"I agree to your conditions. Now, if you don't mind, I really just want to be here for Melissa when she wakes up. If you won't go home, at least give us some space." Sliding to the floor, he rested his head against the sofa and closed his eyes, his hand still holding hers. At that point, he could have cared less what the rest of them did.


	34. Small World

Author's Notes - Some of this chapter is based off the Torchwood episode "Captain Jack Harkness." And, I'm posting today because I probably won't be able to post next week. If I have time this weekend, I'll try to get another chapter or two posted before vacation. Oh, and a quick thank you to padma97 for the review.

* * *

><p>"You heard?" Entering Melissa's mindscape, Jack walked inot a large office with an impressive mahogany desk and matching bookshelves lining the walls . She was wearing the black uniform again, but at least this time no explosions were going off in the distance. He looked down to see that he was wearing his normal clothes, including his greatcoat. Flannel really didn't go with the setting, he guessed.<p>

"I was watching," she commented distractedly, her eyes focused on the display scrolling on the top of her desk. "Gwen can really push your buttons, can't she? Although, I have to say I was impressed by Ianto. He seems to have matured in the few weeks I've been here. Still slightly passive aggressive. I noticed he enjoyed making you sweat, although that comment about Yvonne Hartman was a little below the belt."

Sitting in a black wingback chair covered in something that reminded him of leather, he defended himself. "You didn't know Yvonne; she could warp almost anyone to her will, just by pretending to be nice to them, the bitch."

"I'm sorry I didn't get to meet her, then." Her attention was still fixed on the calculations and graphs in front of her, so she was surprised when she felt the sensation of Jack's hands rubbing the tension out of her shoulders as he watched her work.

"Did you really have to fake a heart attack?" He asked in annoyance. "I thought the plan was for you to faint."

Finally looking up, she responded icily, "Owen deserved a few minutes of panic. I was not going to let any of them treat you like something less than human. I know how much it hurts you when you die."

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," he half-joked before allowing his real feelings to show. "You could have warned me. When you hit your head, you almost gave me a heart attack." As he finished the neck rub, he asked in concern, "Owen says you have a concussion. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Jack. I'm just trying to make sense of these Rift calculations while I finish this little nap. Something is odd."

"Good," he said in relief, referring to her wellbeing and not the Rift. "Because when the Doctor had that concussion, he didn't do so well. I remember worrying for almost a day that he would slip into a coma and somehow die without regenerating."

She studied him critically. "That's in the other timeline. How much do you remember?"

Trying to recall the actual memory, he finally gave up in frustration. "It's weird; I remember the Doctor's injuries, and I remember that you were there; you said that it was a day where everybody died, but other than that, it's all too fuzzy." Seeing the expression on her face, he asked, "Why? I was a Time Agent. I'm sure this whole alternate reality is affecting me in some way."

"Maybe." She responded noncommittally, going back to the reports flashing across her desk.

After a while, Jack was bored enough to interrupt. "Why red?"

"What?" She was completely thrown by the randomness of the question.

"Why is this office red? I mean, it's your mind, and the color really clashes with your hair.

That got a laugh from her. "It's an actual office from my memory, Jack. I didn't really have a choice about the wall color. This is the Castellan's office on Gallifrey."

"You were Castellan?" his voice came to her as a hot whisper in her right ear, and it took every ounce of willpower to maintain a focus on the Rift information.

"Stop that!" she squeaked, shivers going down her body as he mentally stimulated more pleasurable areas. "I was for a very short time, towards the end of the War." Enough memories of the Time War rose to the surface to squelch all thoughts of pleasure. Muttering, she added, "Not that it did any good in the long run."

"Sorry." He hated inadvertently reminding her about the Time War. Her wounds were still too raw to give her any perspective, and her blocked memories plagued her. The nights when she slept more than a few hours were interrupted by violent nightmares.

"Not your fault," she assured him, still studying the information Tosh's computer had come up with. "By Jove, I think I've got it. Something is pressing at the seams of the Rift, almost as if there's something trying to get out. I know for a fact that the Doctor sealed the Rift during the reign of Queen Victoria, so it should stay closed, unless an outside force acts on it, like that Rift Manipulator you have in your Hub."

"Give me some credit. I'm not stupid enough to open a Rift in time and space."

"Oh, don't act like that," she retorted. "You and I both know that under the right circumstances, opening the Rift would provide a very powerful, very focused source of energy. I can't believe you've never thought about it. And don't tell me Alice Guppy built that thing by herself."

Testily, he admitted, "Fine. I helped build the Rift Manipulator, but a key component is locked in my private safe where no one can get it. Like I said, I'm not stupid enough to open the Rift without a good reason."

Barely acknowledging his response, she bent over the calculations once again. Jack paced around the office, peering at the strange books, mementos and pictures displayed on the bookshelves.

Suddenly, she stood in front of him. "The old dance hall that's been getting all the reports of music and ghosts is the epicenter of some temporal ripples that are coming from the Rift. We need to check it out."

He stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "And you just plan to jump off the sofa; say hello to everyone, then leave to check out an old dance hall. Why did we bother trying to get their sympathy with that whole abduction story if you aren't going to try to act like a human?"

She grimaced when he mentioned the abduction story, but otherwise showed no reaction. Impatiently, she replied, "I need to investigate the site to see if any damage has been done, but it can wait a day or two."

"Can it wait a week? "'Cause Owen's not going to clear you for field work after the drama today for at least that long."

Rolling her eyes, she countered, "It should be alright for at least five days, but I can't predict past that with the information I have here." Frustrated, she added, "I wish I had the TARDIS."

"UNIT's cannibalizing it for a special project headed up by a mysterious blonde woman who appears at irregular intervals. Won't even give them her name, I've been told. Sound like anyone you know?" He gave her a smug smile, happy to know more than she did for once.

"Jack, promise me you'll stay away from Rose. I can't shake the feeling that she's not supposed to know about your death-defying abilities. And to be honest, I find it unsettling that she can jump into an alternate reality, dimension cannon or not."

She gathered up the reports, putting them in a desk drawer. Energetic, she asked, "It's been twenty-two minutes, can I wake up now?"

He smirked; he was finding that patience was not a natural Time Lord trait. "I think you need to stay horizontal for a while longer, Sleeping Beauty."

Changing the scenery to something more suitable for seduction, he did his best to give her a reason to feign sleep a while longer. She quickly showed her enthusiasm for such an idea. As they leisurely explored each other's fantasies, he couldn't help but wonder at her inventiveness. One sensation in particular was completely unexpected, and he asked with a gasp, "How did you manage that?"

Smiling devilishly, she answered, "Mind over matter, remember? I just thought outside of the gender box that time. Although, I must say, the temperature variations you introduced were most enjoyable."

"Mmm," he agreed, eyes closed and utterly relaxed. "We'll have to try that in the flesh again sometime."

As Jack slowly drifted off to sleep, Melissa gently pushed him into his own mind. More tired that she cared to admit from the Weevil attack and the scene in the boardroom, she slowly let sleep overcome her as well. The only difference the Torchwood team could detect as they tried to go about their daily routines on a very uncommon day was the gentle sound of snoring coming from the couch.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gasping, Melissa woke abruptly to find Jack holding her and Owen shouting something, although she couldn't really understand what he was saying. Trying to remember where she was, she glanced at Tosh, Ianto and Gwen, who were standing nervously a good ten feet away. Focusing, she saw Owen checking her pulse, which was high, even for her. Then, he began to shine a light into her eyes, making her squint and flinch. Weakly, she tried to grab it out of his hand.

"Shit! Hold her still, Jack! I'm going to scan her to see if she suffered a seizure." Owen put the small torch down and took out his portable medical scanner.

"Just a nightmare," she protested between breaths. Finally beginning to calm, she looked up at Jack. "Just a nightmare, I promise."

Stroking her hair, he helped her sit up on the sofa. "This went way beyond your usual nightmares. What's the last thing you remember?"

Forcing herself not to blush as she remembered the time spent in each other's minds, she answered slowly. "I was in the conference room. I was scared and angry and I just wanted to get away." Her eyes going wide, she asked fearfully, "Do we have to run again?"

"No," Owen answered emphatically. "This is Torchwood; we're used to weird shit here, and I guess Jack's just one of those things." Continuing his scan, he added in a gentler tone, "Do you recall feeling faint while you were in the conference room?"

She glanced significantly at the three people standing a few feet closer to her than they had been just a minute ago. Owen, following her gaze, barked, "Oi! This isn't a cinema, you three! Give us some privacy here!"

Jack quickly added, "Ianto, can you make us all some tea? And find us something substantial to eat that requires a knife and fork. Order twice as much as you'll think we'll need. Tosh, I need the most up-to-date data you have on the Rift. Gwen, I need you to find out all you can about the history of the dance hall that's been the site of the supposed haunting and ghostly music. Newspapers, police reports, architectural plans, anything you can find."

As they hurried to begin their tasks, he pulled out a handkerchief and began to wipe the sweat off her forehead.

Once she knew they could not be overheard, she answered carefully. "No, I didn't feel faint, but I detected a slight arrhythmia. It's not that uncommon while recovering from a serious injury. Why?"

Looking around, he made doubly sure they could not be overheard. "One of your hearts stopped beating," he quietly informed her. "You collapsed and managed to hit your head on the way to the ground. Is that bothering you in any way?"

"No," she answered honestly. "It hurt when Jack touched the bruise, but that's all." Trying to downplay the heart matter, she continued, "I don't think the temporary cardiac arrest is all that significant. Although I function much better with two, it's a redundant system, and I can survive for some time with just one heart beating. Don't worry about it, Owen."

"I'm your doctor; it's my job to worry, but in this case, I'll just have to take your word for it." He put the scanner back his bag. "Now, we need to talk about what just happened."

Jack felt her tense beside him, and began to rub her back. "It wasn't a regular nightmare, even by your standards. Your eyes were open and you were shaking violently. Then, you started screaming, and we couldn't get you to respond to us. Do you remember any of it?"

"No," she reluctantly admitted, not liking the look of unease shared by the two men. "Can't we just chalk it up to stress?"

"More like PTSD," Owen commented darkly, ready to offer a suggestion, but he was cut off by the Captain.

"Owen, since she seems to be okay, would you mind giving us a minute alone?"

"Sure," he replied sarcastically. "I'm sure Tosh has gotten a paper cut printing off that data by now."

As he moved to leave, Melissa put her hand on his arm. "Thank you. I really don't think this is going to happen again, but if it does, I'll let you know, I promise."

Mollified, he replied, "Actually, it would be nice if you could just recover and stay healthy for a while. He doesn't pay me overtime, you know." Leaving, he went to the autopsy bay to privately go over the information he had compiled from her medical scan.

As soon as Owen was out of sight, Jack demanded, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" she asked, confused.

"That the story we just told everyone in the conference room was true."

"I've never been a prisoner of Torchwood, Jack. You know that." Her attitude was one of disdain, as if he was a complete idiot who could barely string two words together.

He wasn't fooled by her act for a minute; he had spent too long with the Doctor to fall for Time Lord diversion tactics. "No, but substitute Time Agency for Torchwood, and I pretty much get the picture. You had a flashback, Melissa. I saw you in the interrogation room."

"It's not the same. I did not let them use me," she spat out angrily. "They didn't even know what I was. I had the bad fortune of being injured by a collapsing time tunnel. I got away, eventually. It's in the past." Irritated, she demanded, "How did you get into my mind by yourself, anyway?"

"It was open. I think that concussion has affected you more than you realize." Repentant, he put his arms around her. "I didn't mean to pry. I was worried." With a smile, he added lightly, "I promise I won't do it again unless I think I need to."

Upset by the incident more than she cared to admit, she reluctantly smiled back. "Well, as long as you put it that way."

Helping her stand, he hesitantly asked, "Was I involved?"

"I think I would have remembered."

"Good." He had been sickened when he saw some of the torture she had endured.

Surprising her completely, he picked her up, carrying her towards the exit. Grinning, he whispered a reminder. "You're still a damsel in distress right now. Don't forget that you were mauled by a Weevil a little over a week ago and collapsed in front of everyone this afternoon."

She rested her head against his shoulder in resignation, hating to suffer the indignity of being carried outside, but secretly enjoying his attention very much.

Declaring loudly that he was taking his wife home, Jack had Ianto load half the take away Italian he'd purchased into his car. Promising to be at work tomorrow, the Captain sped off, tires squealing in the car park. As they reached the house, Susan and Matthew bounded out the front door, happy to see them.

"Any weird aliens today?" Matthew asked eagerly as he helped bring dinner inside.

Without looking at Jack, Melissa replied very matter-of-factly, "It was a pretty boring day, actually, Matt. We had a meeting, and that was about it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was a full seven days before Jack and Melissa stood in front of a decrepit building that had once been an elegant dance hall. Her concussion had significantly weakened her psychic shielding, and he had insisted that she spend most of the week resting and rebuilding her defenses. They had spent a lonely week completely inside their own minds, and she was astounded at how much she missed his mental touch. Not that it compensated for the empty place in her head where her kind should be, but it was pleasing in its own right.

Staring intently at the building, she extended her senses as he scanned with his Vortex Manipulator. "Interesting."

"What? I don't pick up anything except a temporal echo originating from inside the building." The thought that something might actually be trying to escape the Rift unnerved him, and he approached the building with the utmost caution.

"That's just it. If this were a natural phenomena, then I should be able to see the residual energies from that echo throughout the block, but this is very concentrated. There's almost no leakage, which means-"

"That someone did this deliberately," he finished for her, not liking the implications.

Walking inside the building cautiously, they checked the first floor, but roosting pigeons were the only life they disturbed. Gradually, they could hear the faint melody of Glenn Miller coming from the second floor.

"At least it's not Metallica," he joked as they walked quickly up the stairs.

For an instant, they heard nothing, saw only the empty shell of a trash-strewn ballroom, and then the scene changed. There were men in uniforms, girls in dresses and sensible heels, music and dancing, and the hum of conversation. The place was alive and they both thrilled to see it.

"Care to dance?" Jack asked gallantly as he noted the flush of her cheeks and the smile on her face.

"I thought you'd never ask," she replied breezily, enjoying the new and unexpected. She had been on a linear path for so long that she had almost forgotten how intoxicating slipping into another time for fun could be.

He twirled her around the ballroom, his moves ever more complex as she easily followed his lead. By the time the music ended, they had quite an audience, although Jack was uncertain if the attention came from their skill on the dance floor or the attractiveness of his dance partner. As the applause died down, they found themselves the center of attention.

"So, are you the entertainment, then?" a cocky young pilot asked Melissa as she and Jack went to the bar to get a drink. "I didn't think this place hired professionals, but you are one sweet piece of-"

"The lady's with me," Jack practically growled, the smile wiped off his face the instant he realized what the man assumed.

Trying not to laugh, Melissa sipped the champagne that the bartender had been more than willing to provide her. "I'm a WAC," she explained, as if that would account for her unusual appearance.

But the soldier only leered at her. "I bet you're a very good one, too." Then, he made the mistake of putting his hands around her waist. Jack pinned the man's left arm painfully behind his back, and was about to explain the concept of personal space to the very unlucky and very pissed lieutenant, when he was interrupted by the most gorgeous man he had seen in years.

"Vickers, I think you owe the lady an apology."

"Apologies," the inebriated officer reluctantly muttered as Jack let him go with a little more force than was comfortable. The man staggered into a bar stool and slunk off to join his comrades, who were observing from a safe distance.

Turning to them, the man said, "My squad isn't usually that rude, but we have a mission tomorrow. Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?"

Taking the initiative, Melissa answered for them both. "I already have a drink, but I'm sure Jack would appreciate one."

"Jack? Small world, my name's Jack, too. Captain Jack Harkness." The handsome man was all smiles as he waited to learn the names of the strange couple that had entranced everyone on the dance floor.

As if in a haze, Jack put out his hand to shake with his namesake. "Captain Jack Harper. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." Stumbling over the introduction, he paused a moment before remembering, "And this is my, this is Melissa Morgan."

At that instant, an old, thin man sporting a cravat stood in front of them and held a camera near their faces. "Smile," he ordered as the light bulb flashed. He caught an image of a stunned Captain looking in shock at the man whose identity he had stolen, while the real Captain Harkness smiled congenially at the camera and Melissa frowned.

The older man introduced himself as the club manager before walking away. Belatedly, Captain Harkness shook Melissa's proffered hand, still not sure what to make of her. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance as well. I hope you weren't too offended by Lt. Vickers' actions."

Distracted, she watched the man with the camera disappear down the hall. "Yeah, you too." Focusing on her Jack, she told him, "I'm just going to see if I can get a copy of that photo when it's developed. You're welcome to finish your drink."

The conflicting desires of protecting her and getting to know the man whose name he had stolen so many years ago battled within him for a long second, and then he answered gratefully. "Thanks, I'll catch up with you later."

Already turning away, Melissa barely heard his reply. She caught up to the manager in his office; according to the sign on his desk, his name was Bilis Manger. "Mr. Manger, I was just wondering if I could get a copy of that picture?" She kept her voice casual as she fought her instinct to kill the creature in front of her.

The man, if that what he actually was, had no tether to time at all. If seeing time wrap around Jack instead of flowing through him was disconcerting, then watching time shrink back in fear from this person was absolutely terrifying. She could also see that space bent around him as well, indicating that he could step between two points with no effort at all. Could he be bringer of darkness that Rose was so worried about?

He regarded her coolly. "I'm sorry, my dear, but it only made the one, and I have plans for it. He held up a Polaroid picture, and she schooled herself not to react to technology that was too advanced for the time.

"No problem. I just wanted something to send home to Mom. I'll get my picture taken later." She began to edge away from the door, trying not to show her disgust or fear.

Eyes narrowing, he replied flatly, "I doubt you'd be able to reach your mother through the mail."

Continuing to retreat, she gave him a nervous smile, backing away until she could no longer see the office. Then, she ran back to the bar, hoping to find Jack and get the hell out of the past. He was close by, sitting at a table with his namesake just talking, but his gaze had that intensity that always flooded her body with heat, and she could smell his pheromones from across the room, musky and spicy and heavy with the promise of sex. Only, this time it was directed at Captain Harkness, not her. Willing her body to ignore her senses, she pulled up an empty chair to their table.

"I think it's time we were going."

"Haven't finished my drink yet." Jack responded lightly, but when he turned towards her, she could see the pain and pleading in his deep blue eyes.

Perhaps sensing the conflict between them, Captain Harkness excused himself. "Actually, I need to check on the men and make sure no one else has made a fool out of himself." He gazed intently at Jack as he said, "If you're still here when I get back, we could finish our conversation."

"Sure," Jack said calmly, but his face betrayed the significance of the moment, and Melissa wondered if they telegraphed their own desire so blatantly while working together. It would not do to alienate Ianto just as he was becoming a good friend and ally.

Alone again, he regarded her with something akin to disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Jack; he is gorgeous, but we really need to get out of here as soon as possible."

"You don't understand," he argued passionately. "Captain Jack Harkness disappeared over the Atlantic after running into a German squadron while on a training mission. It's tomorrow, Melissa, and he has spent his entire life denying everything he is."

Getting sidetracked by his guilt, she responded sympathetically, "Jack, I know you feel responsible for him, but you can't change the past and you can't make him accept his feelings if he's not ready. Even if we had the time, if you two were caught, his own squadron might be the ones who shoot him down. Have you thought of that?"

Bitterly, he responded, "He's going to die; we both know that. What does it matter if the enemy kills him or he's shot down by not so friendly fire? Besides, I told you a long time ago that I could be discreet."

As she saw Manger appear out of the corner of her eye, she urged, "We have got to get out of here. This is some sort of trap, or do you think it's just coincidence that the original Jack Harkness is here? That manager, he's not quite human, and he can jump from time to time as easily as flicking a light switch. I think this is a diversion to get you out of the Hub for as long as possible. We need to leave, now."

Convinced by the fear in her voice more than her arguments, he agreed, programming the coordinates for the Hub into his Vortex Manipulator. Grabbing her hand, he pushed the button to return to their proper time, but nothing happened.

"Shit," he swore, tapping a few more buttons. "The temporal distortion is locked here; I don't understand how. We aren't going anywhere."

Extending all of her senses, she searched for a solution. "We need to leave the building. I don't think he can extend his control much past the actual anomaly. Once we're outside, you should be able to take us to the present, where I can seal the echo."

Insistently, she grabbed his hand and began walking through the crowd to the stairs. There were hardly any people on the ground floor. There was no heat in the entrance due to wartime rationing, and it was dark as well. Spying Captain Harkness watching them leave, Jack ran back and practically dragged the man down the stairs. As Melissa waited impatiently, he kissed the Captain, hard, on the lips, and then wrapped his arms around him as Harkness responded.

"I've got to go," he regretfully explained. "Make tonight count." He gave his namesake one last, desperate kiss, then took Melissa's hand and ran out the door.

"I am sorry, Jack." She gave him a brief hug as they stood in front of the dance hall. "You should have gotten more time."

Nodding curtly, he replied, "It was more time than I had before. I never realized what kind of man he was, or even wondered about it back then, to be honest."

"Going so soon?" Bilis Manger suddenly appeared at the doorway. "You've hardly had time to dance."

"Party time's over." Jack responded with a deadly edge to his voice. Not giving the man a chance to respond, he clasped Melissa's hand and activated the teleport.

Staggering, she struggled to remain upright as they landed on the street outside the now decrepit building. "I hate that thing," she remarked vehemently as she surrendered to gravity, sitting down for a few moments while she attempted to stop her stomach churning.

Scanning the temporal ripples from across the street, Jack kept an eye on her to make sure she was alright. He relaxed somewhat when he saw her hop up and jog to the front steps. Standing rigidly straight, she began to draw upon her mastery of time to close the temporal echo. As she concentrated, the entire building began to shake, as if it were caught up in a large earthquake, until it finally collapsed in on itself, choking the air with dust and particles of concrete.

"Melissa!" He yelled as the building seemed to come down practically on top of her. She was no longer visible in the thick cloud of debris that had risen from the destroyed structure, and he ran towards the spot where he had seen her last, but could not find her. Still yelling her name, he almost didn't hear the sound of coughing coming from his left. Frantically, he changed direction and found her on the ground, wheezing desperately as she attempted to crawl away from the remains of the building. Scooping her up, he ran with her across the street where the air was much cleaner.

Hacking, barking coughs still wracked her body as she greedily gasped in fresh air, and she let Jack support her weight as she attempted to clear her head. Finally, she straightened and grinned sheepishly. "Not too bad, considering."

"Considering what?" he asked angrily. "That you have a death wish?"

Chagrinned that she had upset him once again, she was quick to reassure him. "I'm fine, Jack. The building wasn't sturdy enough to withstand the forces I had to unleash to close the echo. I promise I don't have a scratch on me, just a little dust up my nose." As if to prove her point, she sneezed loudly, expelling fine particles of concrete that had lodged in her sinuses. "You don't happen to have one of your handkerchiefs in your pocket, do you?"

Knowing it did no good to yell, he mutely handed his handkerchief to her and started to clean the debris off the SUV's window. They needed to get back to the Hub as soon as possible. He had a feeling that the trap had been one of many. They needed to warn the others; someone or something was trying to manipulate them.


	35. Opening the Rift

Author's Notes - This chapter earns its T rating for a few gory scenes. It's inspired by the Torchwood episode "End of Days." And, while the next few chapters continue to explore Jack and Melissa's relationship during the events of "Turn Left," rest assured that the Doctor will reappear once Rose manages to build a time machine and convinces Donna to change her decision. I know the chapter's longer than usual, but I won't be able to post next week, and didn't want to cut it in the middle. I promise to update as soon as vacation's over.

* * *

><p>"Are you okay, sir, ma'am?" Ianto asked immediately as Jack and Melissa walked into the Hub, their clothes covered in dust and tiny pieces of concrete.<p>

"When are you going to stop calling me ma'am, Ianto? I'm not that old." Melissa complained before another coughing fit made it impossible to talk.

"Get Owen," Jack mouthed as he supported her under her arms while she tried to catch her breath.

The physician was already approaching, having heard the commotion, as were Tosh and Gwen. "One of you, get her a chair," he ordered irritably as he watched the two women gawk. As Melissa struggled to breathe normally, he snapped, "What the hell did you two do this time?"

"Don't look at me." Jack protested as Tosh grabbed a chair for Melissa and Ianto placed a cup of tea in her shaking hands. "She's the one who managed to have a building fall on top of her."

"Stop being so melodramatic. I'm fine; the building didn't even hit me."

"I'll be the judge of that." Owen took out a stethoscope to listen to her chest. After a quick examination, he told her, "Your lungs sound clear. Drink your tea."

"Thanks, Mom," she said with a mischievous grin on her face.

Normally, her snipe would have gotten a rise out of the medic, but he noticed how badly her hands were shaking as she held her mug. "Where's Ianto? You need something to eat."

But the archivist had already noticed her shaking and had instinctively known what to do. He returned with a tray of biscuits for all of them. Downing five in rapid succession, she murmured her thanks, her hands now steady. Thankful that her cough had been no more than a minor irritation, Jack finally relaxed, dusting off his coat and hanging it in his office.

Gwen, who had remained silent the entire time, followed him. "I said no more secrets, Jack. Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"As soon as I wash my face and get some takeaway ordered, I'm going to tell everyone. I'm not keeping secrets, Gwen." He knew he had to work to regain her trust, but was getting frustrated that she no longer gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Forty minutes later, they were around the conference room once again, eating lunch. Melissa had taken the time to shower, although she had not dried her hair. As it dried naturally, it was curling into loose ringlets, and the word kinky leapt into Jack's mind. Putting that thought forcibly out of his head, he focused on the problem at hand.

"Melissa and I went to that dance hall this morning," he began as everyone finished their pizza. "Tosh flagged it over a week ago, and there were reports of ghosts and music, so we decided to check it out."

"Hogging all the fun to yourself?" Ianto asked dryly.

"It was a trap," he responded defensively, still reeling from his meeting with the real Captain Jack Harkness. As everyone looked at him for an explanation, he continued. "It was a time echo that sent us back to Cardiff during World War II. We would have been stuck if my wrist strap hadn't been working. As it was, we had to destroy the building in order to fix the temporal anomaly."

"Why would someone want you trapped in the past, Jack?" Tosh was sure she was missing something.

"We think that whoever did this wanted the rest of you to use the Rift Manipulator to open the Rift and get us back. Melissa's been studying the Rift data that you compiled, Tosh. She's concluded that something's trapped by the Rift and it's trying to get out."

"Oh, your wife's a mathematical genius as well as an expert on aliens. How convenient for you, Jack." Gwen remarked cattily, and everyone unconsciously tensed.

Heatedly, Melissa defended herself before Jack could speak. "When I said I graduated from college at seventeen I thought you would have understood I was a genius. And as for being an alien expert, I really couldn't help that after spending eighteen months in the custody of Torchwood." Continuing the sketch she had begun when Jack started the briefing, she added smugly, "I'm also a fair artist, and I cook. What else do you want to know?"

Sensing that everyone at the table was against her making a scene, Gwen didn't answer.

"Keep the claws in, ladies," Owen warned.

Ianto bent his head down momentarily to hide his grin. He could definitely see the two of them in a cat fight. Serious once again, he asked, "Do you know who's trying to manipulate us?"

Melissa held up the sketch she had just completed. "His name is Bilis Manger. He was the manager of the dance hall during World War II. According to Jack's super watch, he can pop back and forth in time, so there's no telling where he is at any given moment. We all just have to be careful. He went after Jack first; he'll try one of us next."

That pronouncement engendered a strong sense of foreboding in everyone present. Trying to grasp the severity of the situation, Tosh asked, "But what's trapped on the other side?"

"No idea," the Captain admitted. "But I don't want to find out through experience. Ianto, can you look through the archives and see if there's any reference to things hiding or being trapped inside the Rift?

"I will."

Before anyone else could move, Gwen made a chilling comment. "Didn't Suzie say there was something hiding in the dark? Something that was coming for you, Jack."

Melissa started to twist her napkin. Gwen's comment was a little too close to the whole darkness is coming warning that Rose and the crazy Dalek had mentioned, and now she was very, very nervous.

Sensing the changing mood of the team, Jack tried to bolster the group. "We can handle this. We just need to be a united front. We are not, for any reason, going to open the Rift. If Bilis contacts you, or you spot him, contact whoever's at the Hub immediately. Keep your comms on and your eyes open. Now, let's get back to work."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next few days were spent in tense anticipation of an attack of some sort, made all the more frightening by the fact that they might be targeted individually. Jack slept in his old quarters inside the Hub, the better to react to late night emergencies. Melissa picked up Susan and Matthew each day from school, and stayed with them in the afternoon and evenings. No one at Torchwood grumbled much about her absences, except Gwen, who knew better than to complain too loudly. Not that she could talk; she spent her evenings at home with Rhys, leaving Tosh, Ianto and Owen to pick up the slack.

"I found something," Ianto announced as he walked into Jack's office on the fifth day of combing the archives. "Sorry it took so long. I found this in an original file from Torchwood House. How did you end up with those records, by the way?"

"Let's just say Queen Victoria liked a good foot massage." He gave Ianto that particular grin where the Welshman had no idea if Jack was telling the truth or having him on.

Momentarily flustered, the archivist tried to ignore the mental image that had just been placed in his head. "Right. So, according to the file, a fragment of text was found in the Roman fort that is now part of Cardiff Castle. It was a Latin translation of an even older text, although the archaeologists were unable to find the source from which it was taken. It talks about Abaddon, son of the Beast, who had been trapped by a race known as the gods of the light, before the dawn of time inside a crack in the world. The text ends with, and he shall dwell in darkness until the end of days."

"Good work, Ianto. Anything else?" Jack asked as he prepared to call a meeting to discuss the archivist's findings.

"I checked the name Abaddon on the internet. He's known as the Great Devourer."

"I guess it would have been too much to hope for the Lesser Devourer," Jack muttered as they walked to the conference room together.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Owen was getting fed up with being in the conference room so much. Even with the threat of attack, there were still aliens to autopsy. In fact, there were six waiting for dissection in cold storage. Impatiently, he tried to sum up the last twenty minutes spent in the cramped space.

"So, what you're saying, Ianto, is that there might be something there, and it might be called Abaddon, and the Rift might be its prison. And I just wasted twenty minutes of my life to find out a lot of maybes. Can someone tell me if any of that was the least bit worthwhile?"

Melissa spoke up, "Unfortunately, it tells me quite a lot, Owen." Surprised, Jack gestured for her to continue.

"The Doctor met an entity known as The Beast, although some cultures called it Satan. Supposedly, it had been imprisoned since before the beginning of time. It tried to escape a planet that was somehow orbitting a black hole. The Doctor and his companion managed to stop it, but not before it had killed almost everyone on the research station that was there to study the planet."

"That's cheery, yeah?" Gwen commented, rattled by what she had heard.

"Yes," Tosh agreed quietly, not liking Melissa's story.

"The most disturbing part of the story is that The Beast was known as The Great Deceiver. It was able to get into the mind of everyone there, even the Doctor, and play off their greatest fears and weaknesses. So the question is, what does a Great Devourer do?"

"Blimey, remind me not to ask you for any ghost stories around Halloween." Owen, too, was more affected by her tale than he cared to admit.

"Okay," Jack began, somewhat nonplussed by the additional information. "This just drives the point home that whatever is trapped by the Rift is nasty, and we're not going to let it out, understood?"

As the team half-heartedly agreed, he knew that something was needed to improve morale. "Come on, we're all going to the shooting range to have a little fun. I'll even pull out some of the cool toys from the secure armory. Loser buys a round at the pub tonight." This time, their agreement was more enthusiastic.

Ianto surprised everyone with his accuracy on the firing range, especially when he was using some of the futuristic weapons that Jack had brought out of the archives. "Where the hell did you learn to do that, Tea Boy?" Owen asked in amazement as Ianto managed to outscore him.

"Video games," he replied blandly, enjoying the rare praise from the sarcastic medic. He didn't plan on explaining the weapons training even the administrative staff had been put through in order to work at Torchwood I.

Gwen was up next, beating both their scores. It was Tosh's performance that was the real shocker, however. She nailed each target dead center except two of the moving alien cutouts. "Need to be prepared," she fiercely remarked as Jack gave her a knowing smile.

Jack outscored them all, but that was to be expected since the Captain had more years of experience than the four of them combined. There was some good natured ribbing that Jack's score shouldn't be counted because he had an unfair advantage, but he just laughed it off.

Owen, not liking the prospect of buying a round of drinks, patronizingly encouraged Melissa to try. "Don't be shy; we understand you might not be used to firing many weapons, especially with two kids in the house. It couldn't hurt to get some practice, is all I'm saying."

As she looked questioningly at Jack, he gave a slight nod. This was going to be fun. Striding confidently to the weapons' table, she picked up the biggest gun she could lift and expertly loaded it. As speculative grins broke out on Ianto's and Tosh's faces, she passed Owen, paused, and whispered in his ear. His neck flushed red before he stepped back, allowing her to take her place on the weapons' range.

With the grace of a agile predator, she fired in rapid succession, not only hitting each target dead center, but emptying her clip far faster than anyone else in the room. She had meant to tease Owen about having to buy the drinks, but found herself suddenly dizzy as she felt the presence of something very, very wrong. As she stood there, motionless, Jack was at her side, taking the gun out of her hand and giving it to Ianto. Reassured by his presence, she was able to control the sensation as she warned them all.

"Something's in the Hub."

They looked at each other in confusion while the intruder alarm began to sound. Each taking a weapon, they raced to the main level.

Bilis Manger stood calmly near the workstations, as if he was waiting for his own personal guided tour of the building. As they approached him from different angles, guns drawn, he sounded more cross than alarmed.

"I don't think it was polite of you to leave the dance so quickly, Captain Harkness. Your people didn't even have time to know you were gone."

"Yeah, well, I like it here. Now, what do you want?" He had his gun aimed at Manger, but doubted the man would allow himself to be shot.

"I want a number of things, Captain. For now, I would appreciate it if you open the Rift." He stood there unarmed and seemingly unconcerned by the six people who were aiming their own weapons at him. His lack of reaction was beginning to spook the Torchwood team.

"Not going to happen," Jack replied emphatically, suddenly pressing his gun against Manger's head. Before he could saw another word, the strange man had disappeared, only to instantly reappear behind him.

"We shall see." Having gotten the last word, Bilis Manger disappeared again. This time, he did not return.

"Fuck!" Owen swore in frustration, pretty much summing up the feelings of the entire group.

"That could have gone better," Ianto remarked to the air in general as he watched Melissa walk unsteadily to the coffee pot and pour herself a cup.

"How did he get in here?" Gwen asked, not quite grasping Manger's ability.

"Tosh, get me every scrap of information you can find on this guy. His name's Bilis Manger. I think it's time we paid him a little visit." Privately, Jack was worried. Manger didn't seem like the type to make threats, but he seemed confident that he would eventually get his way. It didn't make any sense. If he could jump around, why didn't he open the Rift himself?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ianto was alone in the archives, searching again for the name Bilis Manger when a completely human Lisa Hallet appeared before him. Scared witless, he backed up until he hit the wall. It couldn't be real, could it? Lisa had been partially cyberized at Canary Wharf. But, he'd loved her enough to sneak her into the Hub to try to save her, which had ultimately put all their lives in danger. She had killed two people before the rest of the team had killed her. For just an instant, however, he believed in the possibility of ghosts. "Lisa?"

"I'm hurting, Ianto. Help me. Open the Rift." She looked so mournful, so tired and so very disappointed in him, but the archivist held his ground. As far as he knew ghosts didn't ask for favors.

"I'm not going to open the Rift, Lisa. You died, and you can't come back." Walking quickly away, he looked over his shoulder to find that she had disappeared.

"Lisa just told me to open the Rift," he announced as he jogged into the Captain's office.

Caught off guard, Jack looked up in astonishment. "She's dead, Ianto."

"I know. It was a bit disconcerting." His heart was hammering in his chest, but he had to admit that Jack's simple assurance had gone a long way towards calming him.

Whatever the Torchwood leader might have said next was cut off by Owen's abrupt entrance. "Diane just told me to open the Rift. How the fuck did this guy get into my head?"

"Welcome to the club," Jack told him with an ironic smile. "Ianto just saw Lisa."

"Shit." Owen looked at the Welshman in sympathy.

"Jack!" Toshiko called urgently as she ran up the steps.

"Who'd you see?" Owen asked before she could even clear the doorway.

Startled to see Owen and Ianto already in the Captain's office, she self-consciously answered. "My mother. She was trapped and told me to open the rift."

"Call her," Jack urged as he stood to lead them downstairs. "You're not the only one to see someone."

Reaching Tosh's workstation, they watched her speak briefly to her mother. "She wanted to know why I woke her up." She laughed in relief.

What about Gwen and Melissa? Did you see anything, Jack?"

"No, I haven't, not yet, at least." He responded distractedly to Ianto's second question. "Tosh, where are they?" he asked, suddenly uneasy.

"Downstairs, third sub level." As Jack made his way to the weapon's section of the secure archives, the rest followed. They found Gwen compiling an inventory of the weapons she had just finished cataloging.

"Melissa says that this one's really a toy," Gwen explained to the group as she put the huge metal contraption in a discard pile.

"Have you had any strange visions in the last few minutes?" Jack asked, completely ignoring the work going on around him.

"Why?" Melissa carefully put a small egg shaped device into an explosives containment box.

"Owen, Ianto and Tosh all had someone they care about appear and tell them to open the rift."

"You're saying Manger can cause hallucinations as well as disappear?" Gwen asked in exasperation.

"So it would seem."

XXXXXXXXXXX

An insistent beeping on Tosh's PDA made several of them start. "Jack, the computer's come up with something. I've located a shop in Manger's name."

"Finally! Melissa, Gwen, Tosh, we're going shopping. Ianto, go home and get some sleep. You'll be taking the night shift along with me tonight. Owen, get some rest, but stay in the Hub." He didn't have to add the just in case to Owen's order; they both knew very well why Jack wanted him to stay close. "Everyone, keep your comms on." Grabbing his coat and Melissa's jacket, he tossed the keys to Gwen.

Approaching the shop, Melissa took out the sonic screwdriver. "This whole place is soaked with artron energy, Jack. And from the readings, I think we may find Manger home."

Gwen and Jack cautiously walked into the shop, guns drawn, Tosh and Melissa trailing a few feet behind. What they noticed first was the sound of loud, disharmonious ticking. The place was filled from floor to ceiling with antique clocks of every sort, all keeping different time.

"Strange way to make a living, even if he does use his ability to swipe clocks from different eras. Hardly seems worth the effort." Jack touched the pendulum on a grandfather clock, stopping its motion.

"You're quite right, Captain. It's a wonder what jobs people will stoop to for a little currency, wouldn't you agree?" Bilis appeared silently behind them, and caught off guard, they spun quickly around to face him.

As the group stared warily at him, he asked hopefully, "Did you come to inform me that you have decided to open the rift?"

"Not a chance," Jack barked, holding his gun once again at Manger's head.

"How very tedious, then." Abruptly, he disappeared before their eyes.

"Tosh, did you get anything traceable from that?" Melissa continued to scan the store with the sonic screwdriver.

"Not enough to track where he's going, but the energy signature's fairly unique. I should be able to pinpoint where he appears next time." She left without explanation to take more readings from outside the building.

"I'm going to talk to the neighbors, see what the other owners think about Mr. Bilis Manger. Maybe he appears at regular intervals," Gwen walked towards the door, more than a little spooked by the encounter.

"Good idea."

That left Jack and Melissa alone with the clocks. "Pick up anything useful?"

"Not really. There's a strong perception filter built around this place. I'm surprised we noticed it at all, unless he wanted us here for some reason. Just let me take a few more readings."

"Sure, meet you in the SUV." Taking one last look at the collection of antique clocks, he exited the shop.

Melissa continued to methodically scan the room, looking for traces of energy that she could track. Abruptly, the queasy feeling in her stomach returned, and she knew she was no longer alone. Turning slowly, she faced Bilis Manger.

"I'm so sorry," he told her solemnly, and somehow, she felt he meant it. "So much suffering in one being. I don't know how you endure it, my dear." Chilled, she took a small step away from him, but his right hand shot out with amazing speed, grasping hers. She was caught, pain searing the back of her hand where his skin met hers.

As she fought to break his surprisingly strong grip, the scene around them changed. She was at home, in the house in Cardiff, standing in the den. She could tell it was late by the inky darkness in the windows and the whine of the neighbor's dog. Something was wrong, however; there was the smell of blood, rivers and rivers of blood. Flicking on the overhead light, she stared in shock at the bloody bodies of her children. They lay next to each other on their backs, eyes open wide and unseeing. Deep red blood carpeted them, the floor and the sofa. It wasn't a river, it was a never-ending sea.

Terrified and enraged, she used every bit of her strength to fight the images, and a second later, she and Manger were standing among the ticking clocks once more. Although her right hand was still gripped and burning in his, she took her left and delivered a terrific punch to his jaw. Reeling, he let her go.

"You can't fight the future; just open the Rift."

Cradling her blistered hand, she smiled darkly at him. "I fight the future all the time." But he was gone in an instant, and she was left alone, hearts racing.

Driven by the images she had been shown, Melissa raced to the SUV and jumped into the passenger seat. "We've got to get to the school!"

Startled by her demeanor, Jack started the car. As he looked in the mirrors for any sign of Gwen and Tosh, however, she lost her patience. "Drive, Jack! NOW!" she ordered sharply, centuries of command ringing in her voice.

Automatically obeying, he slammed the car into reverse, managing a one hundred eighty degree turn, and sped down the street. As they dodged traffic through the crowded streets of Cardiff, Melissa crawled into the back seat to retrieve the first aid kit.

"What the hell happened to your hand?" He had taken his eyes off the road for less than a second to watch her climb into the front seat. Eyes darting back to the road, he swerved to avoid a car that had pulled out in front of him. She fell against his shoulder, hissing in pain as she braced herself with her injured hand.

"I think it's an allergic reaction," she explained briefly as she rummaged through the first aid kit.

He glanced at her then, but she didn't explain further. Stuck in traffic for the moment, he finally asked in trepidation, "What's wrong at the school?"

"Bilis forced me to watch a vision of a potential future. Susan and Matthew had been killed." The absolute horror of that scene replayed in her mind, and she gave a terrific shudder. "I told you they would be safer away from me."

Traffic started to flow once again before he could frame a reply. Concentrating, he managed to weave through the cars and leave the traffic behind. Skidding to a halt in front of the international school his children attended, he bolted out of the SUV and raced inside, temporarily leaving Melissa behind.

Holding up his ID at the front office, he barked, "Torchwood. I need to see Matthew and Susan Harkness immediately." He was more than willing to use Torchwood's reputation to intimidate the administrative staff, but in his haste he had forgotten to mention the pertinent facts. He was stunned by the heated response he received from the assistant principal, who had watched the exchange from the hallway.

"I've heard of you lot," the portly, well-dressed woman replied severely, "and I don't care what your reason, you are not going to take any of my students from the school. Their parents expect this to be a safe environment, and that does not include turning them over to some bloodthirsty, quasi-governmental organization for god knows what."

"Look, lady," Jack began, only to be interrupted calmly by his wife who was standing behind him.

"Ms. Nelson, nice to see you again. I apologize for my husband's rudeness. We have a small family emergency and need to take Susan and Matthew out of school for a few days." She smiled politely at the assistant principal, hoping to avoid any more of a delay.

Looking askance at Melissa's bandaged hand, Cynthia Nelson stammered a response, suddenly feeling out of her depth. "Mrs. Harkness. Yes, er, let me just check their schedules. Quite sorry, I think I misunderstood the situation somewhat." She retreated quickly into the office and came out a few moments later to escort them through the building.

Slowly leading them to the third floor, Ms. Nelson tried to start over. "So, you work for Torchwood, then, Mr. Harkness?"

"Yes," Jack answered shortly, wishing the woman would walk faster up the stairs. The longer it took to reach Susan and Matthew, the more nervous he became. He could tell by the tightness in her face that Melissa felt the same, although she was hiding it far better than he was at the moment. Owen was suddenly yelling in his earpiece, demanding to know why they had abandoned Gwen and Tosh, but it did not seem an opportune time to explain, so he ignored him for now.

Finally, they reached the third floor and stood outside the kids' class. Not bothering to let the woman knock, he pushed the door open and scanned the room, his heart sinking when he did not immediately see his children. Relief flooded him; they were there, in the back with two other students, discussing some sort of history project, if the mess around them was any indication.

About to call out, he grinned when he saw Melissa standing in front of them. Now, that was just showing off, he decided as he began to relax. The children were safe and whole, and whatever horrible future Manger had revealed had not happened yet. Nor would it as long as he had any control over the situation. They would be safe under watchful eyes in the Hub until this mess was sorted.

Even Matthew knew not to ask questions as Ms. Nelson led them slowly downstairs. After the teens had retrieved their backpacks and instruments, Jack led them to the SUV, wisely letting Melissa deal with the assistant principal. Momentarily shushing the teens, he activated his comm.

"Owen, are Gwen and Tosh alright? We had to leave in a hurry."

"No thanks to you," the medic rejoined. "Ianto went to pick them up. What the hell is going on? Why is the SUV at your kids' school?" The doctor did not like to be kept in the dark, and his tone of voice broadcasted his frustration.

"I'll explain to everyone when we get back. Tell Ianto to bring dinner for eight when he comes in. We're going to have guests." Then, with a hint of pride in his voice, he added, "And tell him to make sure the archives are locked. Matthew's got a thing for alien tech."

"Bloody hell, Captain! Are you telling me you're bringing them here?" Before Jack could answer, Owen asked in concern, "Is everyone okay?"

"For now," Jack answered flatly, the smile instantly wiped off his face. "See you in a bit."

As Melissa walked to the vehicle, the floodgate of questions was opened, and they began to explain to the children the danger they were in. For once, she and Jack did not sugarcoat the threat, although neither mentioned the fact that Manger had shown Melissa an image of their death. Explanations finished, it was a very somber and tense ride to Torchwood.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As Susan and Matthew were introduced to Tosh, Ianto and Gwen, it amazed the team that the twins were so dissimilar, yet so like their parents. Matthew's outgoing personality was attributed to Jack, as were his eyes, hair and handsome features. The teen's enthusiasm for all things Torchwood was endearing, and they all ended up explaining their jobs to him in great detail. He understood and appreciated Tosh's technical jargon, much to her utter amazement. When he attempted to flatter Ianto in order to get a peek into the archives, the Welshman snorted in mirth, although he refused to explain to the boy what he found so funny. The boy's polite manner even managed to impress Gwen, who had been the only one not immediately charmed by the appearance of Jack's mysterious family.

Susan was an enigma to the team, much like her mother, although she seemed to lack her mother's spirit. With her red hair and fair complexion, it was glaringly obvious which parent she favored, although her height must have come from her father.

As Susan quietly watched her brother impress Torchwood, Ianto Jones secretly watched her. He couldn't decide if she was aloof or simply shy, but something about her intrigued him.

As the afternoon wore on, work in the Hub continued; though nerves were again fraying as they found no trace of Manger. Matthew's high spirits were suddenly tedious, and Jack called Ianto to take the teen with him when he picked up dinner. His taste of fresh air and relative freedom only fueled his energy upon his return. After knocking over Gwen's Coke while trying to juggle four rolls, he trod upon Tosh's foot and then tripped over his sister's backpack, which had been thrown on the floor of the conference room hours ago and promptly forgotten.

Stressed, Owen snapped. "What the hell do you think you're doing? This isn't the fucking circus!"

Embarrassed, the teen fled without a word while Jack glared at the medic and the rest of the group glanced awkwardly at each other. Still irate, but sorry he had lashed out, Owen tried to apologize.

"Look, Mate, I didn't mean to upset him, but he was acting like a-"

"Kid?" Jack asked acerbically as he finished the sentence. "He's only sixteen. What did you expect?"

They all ate in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, until Melissa spoke up. "He shouldn't be wandering around by himself. I'm going to look for him."

"I'll help," Owen offered, trying to make up for his outburst.

"We'll all go," Jack informed the rest of the team, putting his fork down. "Owen, take Tosh and search the main floor. Gwen, Ianto, search around the archives. I'll look around the cells. If you don't find him, work your way down to the lower levels. Report back when you find him."

"Melissa, stay here with Susan. We don't need two teenagers roaming the Hub." Not happy with the arrangement, but unwilling to challenge Jack in front of his team, she agreed.

After the minutes dragged into a quarter of an hour, Susan began to tap her fingers on the conference room table. "Can't we help?" she asked impatiently. "I mean, this place is huge, right?"

Sighing, Melissa responded, "Bigger than you would think, but we were told to stay here."

"But we could help," her daughter whined. "I know Matt wouldn't have gone far. Has anyone checked Jack's office or his old bunk?"

"No," admitted Melissa, realizing that both were likely locations to find her son. "I guess we could check since they're not that far. Just promise to stay with me. I don't want you running off too." Happy to get out of the small room, her daughter readily agreed.

They discovered Matthew pouting in Jack's bedroom, oblivious to the commotion he had caused. "Get up here this instant, Matthew Michael Morgan," his mother ordered sharply. Reluctantly, he climbed up the ladder, dreading the lecture he knew he deserved.

Instead, he found himself being hugged by his mother and sister. "What's that for?" he sputtered, embarrassed once again.

"You looked like you could use a hug," Melissa answered with a smile. "Owen was just being Owen, you know. I think his mother forgot to teach him manners. Come on, everyone's looking for you."

Seeing Matthew's hesitation, Susan put her two cents in. "Don't feel bad, Bro. Nobody's mad."

"Whatever," he answered nonchalantly, secretly relieved. The two walked back to the conference room together, pulling ahead of their mother as she stopped to notify the others that Matthew had been found.

Melissa was at the bottom of the stairs when she felt the nauseating, familiar sensation of wrongness that she had last experienced inside the clock shop. At the same instant, the Hub was plunged into darkness, and then lit eerily by the dim, red emergency lights as the alarms began to wail. Terrified, she ran up the steps, only to hear two explosive gunshots shatter a glass wall in front of her.

Wrenching open the door, her eyes locked on the elusive Bilis Manger, who was holding a large caliber pistol that was smoking in his hand. "I am sorry," he apologized in his soft and much too polite voice. "But you can have them back. Just open the rift."

With a primal yell, she launched herself at the assassin, intending to kill him with her bare hands, but he disappeared before she could so much as touch him. It was only then that she had the courage to look down at her children lying dead on the floor.

Normal lighting returned to the Hub in seconds as everyone raced towards Melissa's screams. Owen was the first to arrive, having left Tosh at her computer to try to fix the damage Manger's intrusion had inflicted on the mainframe. The scene in the conference room was heartbreaking enough to crack even his jaded facade.

"Christ," he whispered, taking in the blood that had pooled onto the floor and speckled the remains of dinner. Susan and Matthew were laying face-up, almost identical holes in their chests, dead eyes staring sightlessly at nothing. Between them, Melissa knelt, heedless of the carnage.

Shouting in denial as he sprinted up the stairs, Jack pushed Owen aside and entered the room. He, like Melissa, dropped to his knees. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around her, his face etched with grief. She was completely closed to him, however. Kissing her tenderly on the forehead, he gently closed the children's eyes. Finally, he stood, feeling the weight of every one of his hundred fifty plus years.

As he looked in anguish at Owen, he pleaded in a quiet, broken voice. "I need some help moving them."

Not trusting himself to speak, the doctor simply nodded. Walking purposefully towards the autopsy bay to find a stretcher, he met Gwen and Ianto, who had been searching the lower levels. Trapped in the elevator when the power failed, they were unaware of what had just happened.

Seeing Owen's anguish, however, Ianto asked in fear, "Manger?"

Not yet able to manage speech without breaking down, Owen simply nodded.

"Who?" Gwen asked in apprehension, taking in the broken glass and shattered conference room, but unable to see inside.

"Both," Owen croaked as the rage he was feeling gave strength to his voice. "Jesus fucking Christ, that bastard killed both of them right in front of her!" Punching a wall, he managed to hurt his hand enough to stop his tears, but not nearly enough to take the taste of bile out of his mouth.

When Ianto and Owen returned to the conference room with the stretcher, Melissa was sitting impassively in a chair, as far away from the children as Jack had been able to put her. She didn't look up the entire time Owen and Jack strapped Susan's body onto the narrow stretcher. Ianto worried that she had gone into shock, although Jack didn't seem to think so, not that he was the best judge of things at the moment. The Captain looked like he had aged ten years, and the archivist wondered just how many times in his long life Jack Harkness had lost someone he loved.

Leaving Jack with Melissa, they carried Susan to the autopsy bay before somberly returning for her brother. Melissa had yet to acknowledge anyone's presence; she had withdrawn into her own mind, and Jack was forcibly reminded of the Doctor's behavior when he thought Rose had died on the Gamestation. Knowing he could not abandon her in that room, he pulled her up, and led her to the showers.

Halfway there, they were approached by Owen, who was worried about them both. "Do you think a sedative would help her? Can she even take a sedative?"

"Get us both a change of clothes and leave them in the changing room, would you, Owen? There should be a set in the top file cabinet in my office," Jack requested wearily, ignoring the doctor's suggestion. Relieved to finally be able to help in even a small way, Dr. Harper promptly complied.

When they reached the showers, Jack stripped Melissa of her bloody clothes and then removed his own. Pulling her into the hot spray, he carefully cleaned her body and washed her too short hair, making sure there was no trace of blood left when he finished. He did the same for himself. When the hot water finally started to go tepid, he turned off the showers, drying himself and wrapping her in several thick, heated towels. Taking her to the changing room, he put his own clothes on and then dressed her. She still hadn't spoken to him, remaining passive throughout the entire process.

Exhausted, he sat on one of the benches, pulling her onto his lap. He wanted to comfort her so badly, to mourn with her, to rage with her, but all he could do was hold her. Then, inexplicably, there she was in front of him.

She stood on a precipice of sharp, rust colored stone, the scenery around her non-existent, save for a frenzied storm of dust and debris. It blocked the sky, filled the chasm and threatened to blow Jack into the abyss.

"Melissa!" He called to her loudly, urgently, as he fought with every ounce of his will to remain upright amidst the buffeting torrent.

She turned hesitantly, as if responding to the faint whispers of a ghost. Dressed in a long, white gown and strange ceremonial robe that covered her ankles, she wore her long tresses curled and pinned up with a broach of gold that looked vaguely Celtic. Around her neck was a large gold amulet of identical design, and her ears were adorned with dangling golden versions of the same.

If Jack had truly been a primitive ape and given to superstition, he might have bowed before her, so complete was her transformation. There was nothing remotely human in her ancient eyes, and the shadows of the tempest defined her face, revealing a savage majesty. In that instant, she was time and power, grief and joy, sorrow and forgiveness, love and vengeance.

"Melissa!" he shouted again frantically, afraid he would lose the battle to stay standing as he watched the dust and debris form a multitude of faces and figures, all whipping ever faster around her still form.

"Jack?" As soon as she called his name, the gale retreated to rage below the cliff, and he found he could easily walk to her. Gone was the regal alien; in her place was simply the woman he had loved for a century and more. Clinging to her as if an anchor, he held her, the need for words nonexistent as they shared their loss and found comfort in each other.

Finally pulling back, she reverently cupped his face in her hands. "You are truly an impossible man, Jack Harkness. I don't think you've understood what you've done, but thank you."

"What did I do?" he asked quizzically as he sank onto a stone bench, completely drained.

"You managed to reach me, even here. A burden shared is a burden halved, even when our burdens are the same." They sat comfortably together, their grief temporarily spent, watching the swirling dust devils whirl into and out of existence across the bleak landscape.

Curious, Jack decided to ask about her clothes. "What's with the white robes?"

Glad for the distraction, she kissed him briefly on the lips. "It is somewhat medieval, isn't it? I always likened it to the Romans myself. Now they had the gist of Gallifreyan politics, full of intrigue, scandal and debauchery."

Lost in memory, she gradually turned serious before continuing. "White is the color of absence, Jack. It was the color of deep mourning on my home world. I guess in my mind, I just fell back into the habits of my childhood."

He kissed her this time, full of compassion and empathy. He never knew how long they watched the storm below, but eventually he regretfully suggested that they return. "We need to get back before something else happens."

"I know," but she made no move to leave.

"I promise I'll be there for you."

She turned to him suddenly, her eyes inexplicably filled with shame. "Jack, you'll always be there for me. I only hope when you finally understand, you'll be able to forgive me for it."

Definitely not understanding what she meant, he did his best to reassure her. "I will never regret loving you. We just have to have faith that Rose is going to put everything right again. Susan and Matthew will be safe and waiting for us in the proper timeline."

As soon as he mentioned the children, his grief returned like a crashing wave. It was all he could do to dam his tears as he slipped back to awareness of his own body. When he realized that he was holding Melissa in the changing room, she looked at him sorrowfully, soulfully aware and lucid once again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In their absence, Owen, Ianto, Toshiko and Gwen had bathed Matthew and Susan's bodies, dressing them in clean surgical gowns, which covered their gaping wounds. Profoundly thankful, Jack hugged them each in turn, before taking Melissa's hand once again.

Ianto was the one to voice the question they had all been asking themselves as they prepared the bodies of Jack's children for interment in the vaults. "Do we open the rift now?"

Squeezing Melissa's hand for support, he answered gruffly. "No. We said no matter what, and that means no matter what. The rift stays closed."

Demoralized that such a tragedy could occur in the first place, Gwen lashed out. "How can you be so cold, Jack? They were your own children!"

Staggered by her attack, he tried to push away his guilt and give her an answer. However, Melissa exploded next to him before he had a chance to speak. "They were our children, Gwen. How dare you judge us! This Torchwood exists to defend the Earth. Sometimes that comes with a cost."

Suddenly, all eyes were upon her. They had not heard her speak since Manger's attack, and she would have remained silent if not for the guilt and pain she could sense threatening to overwhelm her husband. He did not deserve condemnation from someone who couldn't possibly begin to understand the concept of sacrifice.

"The Rift stays closed," she announced with finality, and no one dared contradict her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bilis Manger left Torchwood alone for two days, the better to let Jack and Melissa regret their sacrifice, and to give the others ample opportunity to worry about what would come next. However, the couple remained resolute in their determination to keep the Rift closed. On the evening of the second day, Manger chose a new target.

The first indication that something was wrong was the sound of Gwen's screams echoing throughout the Hub. They found her in the archives, inconsolable, but unharmed.

"He showed me Rhys," she began, her eyes wide with fear. "So much blood. I could smell it." Her voice deepened with emotion, "He was at home, and I thought , maybe I should bring him here. But we know it doesn't matter, don't we, Jack? He won't be safe, not anywhere, not when you couldn't save your own children."

"I'm sorry," he told her earnestly while everyone else looked on. "We can bring Rhys to the Hub. We can try to protect him. Tosh and Melissa are working on tracking Bilis; they're making progress."

"Like you protected your children, Jack?" she retorted fearfully.

Stung by the unnecessary reminder, he backed away from her. "Bring him in, Gwen, it's the best we can do."

"That's where you're wrong! We can stop this right now before Manger picks us off one by one! Open the Rift!" Shocking everyone, she pulled a gun on the Captain, aiming it at his chest.

"You know we can't. I'm sorry." Stepping calmly to the right, he put distance between himself, Ianto, Owen, Tosh and Melissa. If the situation were to escalate, he wanted to make sure that she didn't target anyone else.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Jack. Maybe you're willing to sacrifice the people you love, but I'm not!"

Temper flaring, he shot back, "Really? You have a funny definition of love, fucking Owen when it's convenient!"

Faster than anyone could react, Gwen squeezed the trigger. Unwilling to see Jack die only a few days after her children had been viciously murdered, Melissa changed her perception of time, intending to push Jack out of the bullet's path. Manger, however, made a brief appearance in the room, causing her to lose her concentration. It was a fatal distraction. Inexplicably to the Torchwood team, Melissa ended up directly in front of her husband, collapsing dead in his arms as the bullet tore through her neck. If the conference room had been gory, then this was a house of horrors. Her blood coated everything in thick spatters.

As Jack's arms fell uselessly to his sides, her lifeless body crumpled to the ground. He blinked a few times in incomprehension, never seeing Tosh yank the gun out of Gwen's limp hands, or Owen race to Melissa's side. His eyes briefly locked onto Ianto's and he looked in confusion at the dismay in the young man's face. As he staggered backwards, he finally noticed the darker stain widening on the front of his shirt.

"Jack!" Ianto's shout alerted Owen to the second casualty, and he spun around. The Captain, however, was already dead, lying prone on the floor.

"How could you?" Tosh asked in disappointment and shock, not expecting nor receiving an answer from the hysterical woman now sitting on the floor.

He'll come back," Gwen stated like a mantra, over and over, even though he had not come back after several minutes of tense waiting.

"What do we do now?" Ianto inquired calmly of Owen, even as he gently began to wipe the blood off Melissa's porcelain face.

The medic, for his part, took his anger out on a metal trash can, kicking it over and over until it was unrecognizable before he calmed enough to answer the question. "What the hell do you think we should do?"

"Open the Rift," Ianto responded evenly, still focused on his task.

"But he'll come back," Gwen wailed, inconsolable.

Barely containing his rage, Owen turned to Gwen. "Why the hell do you think he'd want to, even if he could? His kids are dead! You murdered his wife! He has nothing left!"

Looking past Gwen, Owen patiently addressed Toshiko, who was watching Ianto, glassy eyed. "What do you think we should do, Tosh?"

Surprised to be included, she pulled herself together and looked him squarely in the eyes. "We open the Rift."

Decision made, the Hub was a flurry of activity as Ianto opened Jack's private safe, retrieving the missing piece of the rift manipulator and the instructions with which to operate it.

Owen nearly hit Gwen when she balked at the retina scan needed from all of them to activate the controls. "You of all people don't get to back out of this now! Or would you like us to get your scan the same way we're getting the Captain's?"

As Tosh pulled open Jack's eyelids and captured the image of his dead pupils, the huge machine hummed to life. Ianto worked the controls, following the instruction manual with a precise attention to detail. Just as the program was finished and he activated the Rift manipulator, Jack gasped back to life, scaring them all.

"Why?" he asked plaintively, the betrayal hurting him like a fresh wound. No one had a chance to respond as the Hub began to shake and buckle. Far too weak to walk on his own, Jack had to be assisted outside by Ianto and Owen. Toshiko pulled a struggling Gwen out with them. She was not going to allow the former constable to take the easy way out. Of Melissa and the children, there was no sign.

Safely on street level, Torchwood III faced a gloating Bilis Manger. "Behold, Lord Abaddon, the Great Devourer, son of the Beast, released from the Rift, his prison since before the dawn of time."

In the distance, they could see an impossibly large creature, monstrous, with mottled skin, forked tongue and cloven feet. It walked the city, killing those unfortunate enough to fall beneath its shadow.

Still reeling from his loss and revival, Jack nevertheless straightened and stood in front of his team as he saw the massacre unfolding around him. "She wouldn't have wanted this! What have you done?" Intuitively, he knew there was only one possible solution, and with Melissa and the children dead, he embraced it.

He looked coldly at Gwen, who as still crying with remorse. You are going to drive me to an open area, now."

Softening his expression, he addressed the others, "I know what you were thinking, but this is wrong, and it's got to be stopped. No matter what happens, I forgive you. Owen, you're in charge. Do the best you can." Before they could respond, Jack pulled Gwen away from the group and towards the SUV.

"Why did you bring me, Jack?" Gwen sullenly asked as she drove ever closer to the creature.

"I can forgive you for shooting me, but this is your penance. That thing feeds on life, and I can't die. You're going to watch what happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object." He looked upon the creature without fear. He had lost so much; he just prayed that in killing it, he would finally find the peace he craved.

Morose, Gwen sat in the vehicle as Jack positioned himself in the path of the Great Devourer. As the creature came in contact with the Captain, Jack's life force drained away, over and over and over again, until he collapsed lifeless to the ground. The overabundance of energy was too much for even a timeless and mighty being as the son of the Beast, and when Jack finally died, it flashed out of existence, destroyed.

Still in the car, Gwen sat immobile for several long minutes thinking of the sacrifice Jack had made, and the sacrifice he had been willing to make to prevent this all from happening in the first place. Her selfishness had almost resulted in the deaths of the entire planet. Truly contrite, she vowed to be the better person, to devote her entire being to protecting the rest of humanity, who were happily ignorant of the threats Torchwood faced each day. Hoping to have the opportunity of a second chance, she left the SUV to help Jack.

His body was the color of ash, his lips blue. When she touched him, his skin was cold and rubbery, and she recoiled. He had not felt like a corpse the previous time she had seen him die, and Gwen wondered sadly if he had been wrong in his assumption that nothing could truly kill him. Perhaps he had finally encountered something strong enough to rip his life from within, giving him no chance of return. Grief-stricken, she sat beside his body, waiting for someone to tell her what to do.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Manger's gloating and clichéd speeches were grating on Owen's already raw nerves, especially considering how impossible it was to stop the bastard. He had previously emptied his weapon trying to shut him up, but Manger just popped out of existence only to appear somewhere else a second later. The old man had them cornered, and he knew it.

In the blink of an eye, however, Manger was screaming, trapped in Melissa's sure grip. As Tosh, Ianto and Owen marveled at her appearance, she struggled to keep her hand clasped to the unanchored man. Desperate, Manger began to choke her with his free hand.

Taking the initiative, Owen fired at Bilis, only to curse in anger as he remembered his gun was empty. "Shoot!" he urged Ianto, who had finally aimed his own gun at the old man.

The archivist's hands were shaking, however; he had never shot anything that breathed before. As he tried to steady his aim, a shot rang out from behind; Tosh had fired her own weapon, killing Manger instantly.

"Expert marksman," she grinned at the two men who stared at her in pleased shock. Then, overjoyed, the three rushed to greet Melissa.

Practically knocking her over in their enthusiasm, they hugged her fiercely. It was wonderful to see her alive and free from the blood that splattered their own clothes. Save a patch of angry blisters around her neck and hands, she seemed to be in good health. "Perfect shot, Tosh," she praised as she let Owen check her injuries.

"Jack insisted," the woman responded humbly, not used to being the center of attention.

Eyes twinkling, she responded, "Well, it's good to know he can teach as well as do. Where is Jack, by the way? We should tell him Manger's dead."

Immediately, the three stopped smiling. "How much do you remember?" Owen asked apprehensively.

Trying to think, she suddenly looked at them in horror. "You opened the Rift to save me. You stupid, misguided apes! Do you know what you've done?" When no one answered her, she demanded, "Where's Jack?"

"He's trying to kill Abaddon." Ianto answered when Owen would not meet her eyes.

When she saw the results of Abaddon's handiwork, she commanded briskly, "Take me to him."

As Owen drove to the SUV's position using the Sat Nav, Melissa gave a gasp of pain. Tosh who was sitting in the back seat with her, asked in concern, "What's wrong?"

"Jack," she managed to say as she felt his agony through her new mental connection.

After a minute or so, she abruptly bent over and pressed her hands against her head. Sitting up, she commented bleakly, "He's not hurting anymore." Catching her eye in the rearview mirror, Owen understood exactly what she meant.

Finally reaching the SUV, they piled out of Owen's car and ran to Gwen, who was sobbing in the middle of a rocky field. No one needed to ask what had happened as they gazed at Jack's lifeless body. Ianto placed his arms on Melissa's shoulders, fearful that she would attack the woman who had shot her, but he needn't have worried. Calmly, she knelt beside her husband as the others stood nearby in a daze.

After a while, Owen bent down and asked, "Will he come back?"

Looking up at him bleakly, she simply stated, "He has to."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After three days, the others had given up, not that she blamed them. The only reason she had hope was her sense that Jack was still a rock in the river of time. But he was so far away, and even her expectation was changing to worry. What if he was trapped, unable to return? She had told Susan and Matthew that Jack was missing after a mission, but she never thought it might be true. Forlorn, she sat beside him, trying to keep her hope alive.

He came back to her in the quiet of the night; a sense of panic and fear the first inkling she had that he was close. As his eyes opened, she was kissing his lips as they warmed beneath her. He breathed deeply, more exhausted than he had ever been, but at the same time joyful, content and utterly loved.

Then, the memories of the past few days raced into his awareness, and he frantically struggled to sit up. "The kids?"

Supporting him as his strength slowly returned, she did her best to reassure him. "They're fine. They don't remember what happened."

Resting against her, he felt profoundly relieved. "Thank you for waiting," he finally whispered, gazing into the kaleidoscope of her green eyes.

"You're welcome," she responded quietly, for once not wanting to berate him or joke about the experience.

Carefully, she helped him stand; he was as unsteady as a newborn lamb, but he was alive and unusually serene. Going down to the bunker, they spent the rest of the night together, delighting in their second chance. Fulfilled, they slept entangled on the narrow bunk, without the usual nightmares.


	36. Sex is Not a Cure All

Author's Notes - Back from vacation. I hope I haven't lost too many readers. Much of this chapter is my take on _Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang. _In case anyone hasn't seen it, James Marsters played Captain John Hart, Jack's ex-partner at the Time Agency.

* * *

><p>Walking into Jack's office, Melissa handed him the cup of coffee she had hijacked from Ianto on the way upstairs. "Rose says to tell you hi."<p>

Grinning, he looked up from his paperwork, happy to see her back from her monthly rendezvous in London. "And how is Rosie?"

"Scarily aware on some levels and blissfully naive on others. Somehow, she's able to read Donna's possible timeline. She told me that she's going to be fired from her job next month. She really shouldn't be able to do that, Jack."

"Do you think she's tapping into the Bad Wolf?" He put the monthly report from UNIT down to give her his undivided attention.

"No idea," she admitted, "but if it doesn't have anything to do with the Bad Wolf, then the Torchwood on Pete's World is farther advanced than they have any right to be."

"She didn't question where the blueprints came from, though?" They could argue about how much Rose interfered as the Bad Wolf for hours, and occasionally had. Now, he just wanted to know if her mission had been successful.

"No, she believed me when I told her they came from our archives. That's what I don't understand. How can she see timelines, but not know the first thing about building a rudimentary time machine?"

"Like you said, no idea." Rising, he kissed her soundly. "Hungry?"

"What if I want dessert first?" she requested as he began to nuzzle her neck.

Placing her on the edge of his desk, he responded eagerly. "That can be arranged." Hands free to linger, he began to show her just how much he had missed her.

"Oi! You two, get a room." Owen griped good naturedly as he walked unnoticed into Jack's office as the Captain was unbuttoning his pants.

"We had a room until you barged in." Melissa pouted, calmly buttoning her shirt.

That teased a smile from the usually acerbic doctor. "You're as bad as he is, you know. No self control whatsoever. You've been away, what, two days?"

"Forty-three hours, twenty-six minutes and thirty-two seconds," she smugly responded.

"Christ, that's annoying," he retorted, always surprised when she proved just how alien she really was.

"Did you come in here just to watch, Owen?"

"My eyes would be blinded," he rejoined. No, I'm calling in a favor. Tosh talked me into going to the Hard Rock with her tonight, only Gwen overheard, and Gwen, being Gwen, managed to invite herself and Rhys to join us. I am not going to dinner with those two without some backup, so I was hoping you two could . . ."

They each stared at Owen in shock. "You're going to the Hard Rock Cafe? A bit on the touristy side for you, isn't?" Jack tried to think of a polite way to get out of the invitation. He wanted Melissa to himself tonight, and they would have to spend time with Susan and Matthew before he could manage that.

Embarrassed, Owen mumbled. "Well, she said she liked their hamburgers."

Grinning from ear to ear and trying very hard not to laugh, Melissa begged. "Please tell me this isn't your first date."

"Date?" He sputtered, "It's not a date. Well, maybe it was going to be, but Gwen and her big mouth." He stopped talking when he realized she was teasing him. Defensive, he clenched his hands into fists. "And what if it is?"

Not wanting to upset him, she did her best to hide her mirth. "I'm just glad you finally saw what's been in front of your face. And I haven't had a good hamburger since leaving Colorado. We'll be happy to come to dinner, won't we, Jack?"

"Yes," he agreed pleasantly, knowing better than to argue.

Once Owen had left, Jack expressed his guilt at leaving Ianto by himself to tend to the Hub while the rest of them enjoyed a rare night out. Melissa wisely decided not to mention the fact that Ianto would most likely not be alone in the Hub for long. She just hoped that the young man was prudent enough to wipe all traces of Susan's visit, including the tapes. Jack was ignorant of the two's burgeoning friendship, and she wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Hard Rock was noisy, but not particularly crowded when they arrived at nine. Delayed by a Weevil, Owen, Tosh, Gwen, Jack and Melissa arrived a half hour later than planned. Rhys was waiting patiently at the bar enjoying his second beer.

"Took you bloody long enough," he said by way greeting as he fondly kissed Gwen. "So, what was it this time? ET couldn't find his way home, or were you chasing some nasty bugger?"

"Nothing dangerous," Gwen lied. The Weevil had targeted Melissa as soon as it had sensed her, and Jack had put his body in the way. They had delayed long enough to allow him to change into a new shirt.

Sitting comfortably around a table in the back corner, the remains of dinner littering their plates, they chatted about music preferences until Jack began to regale them with some stories from his travels with the Doctor. Melissa wasn't sure the others believed the story about Rose, the Doctor, Jack and the geisha, but it sounded like typical Jack, and she enjoyed hearing one she hadn't heard before.

When Jack had finished, Rhys innocently requested a story from her. "So, being Jack's wife and all, you must have a few stories of your own. Go on, let's hear one." The table got instantly quiet. Melissa never shared stories with the group; mostly, it was assumed that she didn't have many happy stories to share.

She floundered for a moment, trying to think of a funny story that wouldn't compromise her. Her unease must have shown on her face because Jack protectively put his hand over hers. Suddenly inspired, she began her tale.

"It was couple of days after Christmas, and the kids and I were in Colorado. Jack was there, too, when the Doctor showed up a few days late for the holidays, but hey, it was the same week, so we didn't complain. He had this thing about real snow. I can't really explain why, he just loved snow. It had snowed a lot that year already, and there was a blizzard the night before, but that morning, it looked beautiful, and the Doctor insisted we go cross country skiing. He even provided the skis for all of us. What he didn't think about was the avalanche danger in the backcountry. So, we're on this mountain skiing when we all hear this rumble. It looks like the whole mountain's going to fall right on top of us and there's nothing we can do; the avalanche is coming faster and faster, and we're all desperately trying to outrun it even though we know we can't, when all of the sudden, the Doctor's off the ground, shouting about the skis being ant-grav skis and we all just have to-"

"Think happy thoughts!" Jack finished for her, delighted at the memory. "The anti-grav in the skis was triggered by brain wave patterns, and you should have seen us all trying to think about something happy while the mountain crashed down upon us. He got a lot of ribbing about being Peter Pan from the kids after that." Looking at his wife, who was suddenly wistful, he gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.

As everyone at the table noticed her shift in mood, Tosh sensitively changed the topic. "So, who's up for dessert?"

"We're having dessert at home, aren't we Gwen?" Rhys answered quickly, impatient to have his fiancée to himself. It wasn't often that she had a night off, and he was happy to take advantage of it. They left cheerfully, ignoring the suggestive comments Jack and Owen called out to Gwen.

"Well, that went alright," Owen finally allowed as the four of them ordered desserts off the menu. "What do you think, Tosh?"

"I think the next time I invite you to dinner, I'll send you a text."

That got a laugh from Jack. "Well, I have to say thank you for inviting us. I don't usually do sixes, but it wasn't too awkward."

Melissa rolled her eyes wondering if Jack was able to go one night without making an innuendo, and then smiled because she realized he wasn't. Ignoring his comment, she added her thanks, "I had a good time, too. It's been an awfully long time since I've had a night out with friends. Thanks."

Her earnestness made both Tosh and Owen slightly self-conscious. They were relieved when dessert arrived seconds later so they didn't have to think of a reply.

On their way back to the Hub, Melissa stopped near the Plass to sit on a bench. The night was clear and she could see the faint outline of stars over the light pollution given off by the city. Jack sat patiently next to her until she finally spoke.

"You remembered that story."

"Vaguely, but it wasn't at Christmas, was it? We . . . damn, I still can't remember much more than the punch line. Sorry." Sitting next to her, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "You okay?"

"Perfect," she replied, not really feeling that way. "I just-"

"Jack, the Rift spiked about twenty minutes ago, exactly where the police are reporting a homicide, and there's a something resembling a blowfish driving around in a stolen sports car. Should I get someone to check it out?" Ianto broke in on the comms, effectively ending their conversation.

"Melissa and I will go after the Rift spike," he answered with an apologetic glance at her. "Call in Tosh and Owen. You and Owen take the blowfish, and let Tosh handle the computers." Sending the coordinates to Melissa's PDA, Ianto called Tosh to tell her that her date was cut short.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Well, it looks like an ordinary murder," Jack stated as he and Melissa looked down upon a body that had fallen from a four story parking garage. "The man was obviously pushed."

"Yes, but it also looks like whatever killed him came through the rift. Look at these readings." She held out the sonic screwdriver for him to see the results.

Without warning, Jack's wrist computer began to beep. "Shit!"

A hologram of a blonde man wearing a short jacket modeled in a quasi Napoleonic style stared at Jack. "Long time no see, although why are wasting your time in this little backwater, I'll never know. Anyway, I'm thinking reunion; I've even cleared the local watering hole to give us some privacy. By the way, I've got some things you might want back, well one at least; the other isn't all that good looking. Your standards really are slipping. See you soon." With a cheery wave, the apparition was gone.

"Tosh, can you track the signal that just came through my wrist computer?" Jack was frantically looking around, as if his psycho Time Agent ex-partner might tap him on the back at any minute. He had missed Melissa's reaction to the entire message; there was a momentary flash of panic, and then her eyes grew ice cold. Shaken, she pushed down her emotional response and focused on getting Owen and Ianto back from the Time Agency.

Racing to the SUV, Jack managed to leave without her, but Melissa had no intention of being left behind. After getting the coordinates from Tosh, she began to run flat out for far longer than any human could.

Unable to find Ianto and Owen in the nearby bar, Melissa furtively watched Jack interact with the Time Agent, who seemed to be using the name John Hart. After seeing the man in action, she wondered how she had ever let herself be captured by an organization run by such morons. Violent, unpredictable and dangerous, yes, but this guy was a moron nonetheless. What the hell was he doing there, and why was he working with a Horth?

Were they actually debating who was the wife in their little time loop tryst? Well that opening was too good to pass up. Reminding herself that John Hart was on her turf, she stepped into view. "I think you'll find I'm the wife," she called out to the man with the sword, stunning him with her entrance.

Jack was livid; he hadn't wanted her to follow and had hoped that the lack of transportation would have delayed her just a little longer. Melissa did not need to be near Hart, especially when the man had sufficient leverage already. Didn't she know that he was as likely to kill her as to speak to her?

"A wife?" John Hart asked incredulously. "Look at you, Jack; you've gone native, and a female at that-good for you! Always knew you had it in you." Speaking to Melissa, he asked, "Did he tell you we were lovers for five years? Have you even known the good Captain for that long?"

Trying not to laugh and tell him just how long Jack had known her, Melissa coolly poured herself a shot of tequila and replied, "Nope. It must have been too insignificant to remember. Or was that just your dick?"

"Feisty, Red, I like you. Now play nice, or I won't give Jack his toys back." He grabbed her hair, intending to pull her into a kiss, but she somehow managed to break his hold, turn him around and twist his arm behind him. Suddenly, she had the upper hand, at least for a moment.

Glaring at Jack, she asked, "Has he told you what he wants?"

Stung, he tried to defend himself. "I was getting there!" When she only glared back at him, he shrugged and told Hart, "I think she wants to know why you're here."

With a feigned nonchalance, he answered, "Why are any of us here, Jack? I missed you, wanted to reconnect. Thought I could rescue you from this shithouse century you've trapped yourself in."

When Hart mentioned the word rescue, her stomach lurched. What had Jack said on the TARDIS to the Doctor all those months ago? _He thought he could rescue Gray, but all John did was unleash him to take his revenge._ This wasn't that John was it?

Ignoring what she had just remembered, she focused on the present. "That doesn't explain why you took two people hostage. So, what do you really want?" As she finished, she shoved him hard, sending him reeling.

Catching his balance, Hart replied, "Well, if you want to cheapen it like that, I do have a task that I might need some assistance with."

Jack rolled his eyes; now they were getting closer to the real story. "What?" he demanded. "What was so important that you had to take two of my team as hostages?"

Hart continued to drink at an impressive pace, although his eyes lingered speculatively on Melissa for quite a while. "I'm looking for something a friend slipped through the rift; it's in three pieces. Since the canisters are leaking radiation, and you always enjoyed playing the damned hero, I thought you wouldn't mind assisting. Fishy will return your people once I have all three canisters. So the faster we go, the faster you can have those two back, although I've gotta say, Jack, that medic of yours looks like a reject from some genetic experiment. Don't know how you put up looking at him. Now, the eye candy, he's something altogether different. Wouldn't mind keeping that one for a while, what d'ya say?"

"Tosh," Jack called out over the comms., ignoring John, "Are you picking up any radiation spikes in the area?"

Efficiently typing commands, she responded, "Yes, three radiation spikes, they all started about an hour ago." Then worried, she asked, "Jack, I can't reach Owen or Ianto. Do you know their status?"

"Yes," he replied shortly. He knew their status very well. "Transmit the coordinates of the radiation to my PDA. After Melissa and I collect them, we'll pick up Owen and Ianto."

"We don't need Red," John pouted as Jack finished speaking to Tosh.

"You're getting me." Melissa didn't like the situation one bit. "But I'm not going anywhere until you prove that Owen and Ianto are still alive."

She knew how the Time Agency worked as much as Jack did. There was really no guarantee that they weren't already dead. She just wished she knew if this was some rogue agent with his own agenda or a Time Agency operation to capture Jack for some reason. She knew she wasn't the target since she wasn't wearing the same face and the Agency's policy on Time Lords was to deny their very existence.

"Trust's an issue for you, I can tell." John smirked, but reluctantly punched a few buttons on his Vortex Manipulator, and suddenly a hologram of Owen, Ianto and a Blowfish appeared before them.

"You two okay?" Jack hoped his ex-partner had no idea just how much that answer meant to him. Ianto's left cheek was swollen and bloody, and the collar of the pink shirt he wore was now red. Owen was bound, his hands behind his back.

"Never better," Owen sarcastically replied for both of them. "The blowfish's high on cocaine and has a gun, but really, it's just a typical evening. You?"

"We'll be there soon," he promised, hoping his answer wasn't a lie. They needed to find those canisters and exchange them for his two team members and friends. Sometimes, he truly hated reminders of the past.

As John cut the connection, he looked at Jack with a grin on his face, "I take it that means you're going to help me."

"Don't look so smug," Melissa grumbled, finally showing a crack in her armor.

In the SUV, Hart sat in the front, the better for Melissa to keep an eye on him as Jack drove towards the shipyards. Just to break the tension in the silent vehicle, she asked, "So, what's in the canisters?"

Jack glanced in the rearview mirror, wishing he could hazard a touch and have a private conversation with her. Though he was as curious as she to find out what the containers held. It must be impressive for his ex-partner to be interested.

Trying to needle her, Hart responded, "Now, that would be telling, wouldn't it? If you're that curious why don't you just fuck me hard enough and I'll tell you during pillow talk. Jack doesn't mind sharing."

"I'd rather have sex with a Jacolian," she snapped, forgetting for a moment that humans wouldn't encounter that particular species until the fortieth century.

"Well, that's a strange fetish," he grinned, having learned something about her. "I would think the acid would be a turnoff. Still, to each her own. I take it you're not from around here, then?"

Damn, she had been careless. Luckily, Jack came to the rescue. "Are you going to tell us what we're retrieving for you or not? It's not like we're going to steal it. I just want my people back and for you to leave."

Getting out of the vehicle, Hart sighed theatrically, "Oh, all right. Put together, the container holds an Arcadian diamond, the rarest and most precious gemstone in the galaxy."

Melissa's snort of laughter surprised both men. "I don't know what's in that little puzzle box of yours, but I can guarantee it's not an Arcadian diamond." Confident, she left them behind as she tracked the radiation signature with the sonic screwdriver.

Jack hurried to catch up. If she was right, then the containers might be dangerous. Not wanting to lose control over the situation, John Hart followed on his heels. Both men stopped to watch was she retrieved a small canister from a shipping container and dropped it into a pocket of her coat.

"Why don't you give that to me, gorgeous," Hart crooned.

"When you give me Ianto and Owen," she replied with venom.

He made another move to kiss her. "There's that temper again. What is it about red hair and tempers?"

Stepping between them, Jack tried to defuse the situation. "Let's go pick up the other two. Faster we go, faster we can finish."

Walking back to the car, John needled Jack. "Now, the man I used to know hated finishing quickly. Are you sure she's satisfying you? Maybe you should come back with me. I'll remind you of what you're missing."

"I'm not that person anymore," he remarked flatly, regretting deeply that he had been that person in the first place.

Although continuing to smile, Hart was fuming. How dare his former partner judge him! The life had been good enough for his lover once; it should be good enough now. Determined to make him see the truth, he began to look for ways to get rid of the third wheel.

Reaching the next site, Jack shot the lock off the warehouse door. He was getting agitated enough to take his frustration out on inanimate objects. When they saw the sheer amount of items cluttering the cavernous rooms, he reluctantly agreed to splitting up, telling himself more than once that Melissa could handle herself.

After a frustrating ten minute search, Melissa bent down to retrieve the second canister, only to have John Hart's sword at her neck. Slowly she straightened, the edge of the blade following her every move.

"You're a real pain in the ass, know that, Red? You've got the man I want wrapped around your finger. Maybe if I do a little cutting, you won't have such a tight hold. What do you think?" John Hart pressed the weapon uncomfortably against her neck. She could feel droplets of blood forming where the incredibly sharp blade touched flesh.

"Let her go." Jack aimed his Webley straight at John's head, his voice deadly calm.

Frustrated, Melissa stayed absolutely still. The blade was too close to her neck to even chance an escape. "If she gives me the canisters." He really hoped she wouldn't.

Slowly and very carefully, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the first canister, handing it begrudgingly to him. Disappointed, he dropped the sword and shoved her out of the way, picking up the second canister from the ground.

Jack was on him in an instant, his gun pressed against Hart's temple. "Touch my wife again and I'll kill you, hostages or no. Are we clear?"

Staring at the Captain in disbelief, he finally replied, "You really are whipped; you know that, don't you?"

There was absolute silence on the way to the third and final site, an office building whose employees had thankfully long since gone home. Considering how badly splitting up had worked the last time, the three searched together, suspicious of treachery. Melissa once again found the canister, this time on the roof of the building.

As soon as she picked it up, Captain John Hart was behind her, but she was prepared this time. Stepping closer to Jack, she ordered, "Bring Owen and Ianto, or you don't get the last one."

"She likes to be dominant. Is that why you've kept her?" When Jack didn't answer, Hart whined. "You're not making this fun! It's supposed to be fun!"

Petulantly, he continued, "Fine, if you really want the weasel and eye candy, here they are. Pushing a few buttons, he activated the teleport recall on his wrist strap. In a flash, Owen, Ianto and the blowfish appeared on the roof, slightly worse for wear.

Hands bound behind his back, Owen went down in an ungainly heap, suffering the effects of transport. Ianto tried to help him to his feet, only to have the blowfish smash the gun to the back of the Welshman's head, causing him to topple directly onto the medic.

Changing her perception of time, Melissa touched Jack first. "This is getting out of control. We need to leave." In an instant, she had seen the possibilities all too clearly, and knew that if she did not attempt this, then Owen or Ianto or both would not survive the night. "Do we take the canisters with us?"

Gripping her hand to remain in her time perspective, he shook his head. "If that's all he wants, then he'll leave. If not, he'll have to tell us why." Looking at Ianto and Owen, he asked worriedly, "Can you manage all of us?"

"Sure," she lied breezily. Changing one person's time perception was difficult enough; she really wasn't sure she could handle the strain of three, especially if Ianto was truly unconscious. However, she was not going to leave Jack on the roof, something she was sure he would insist on if he knew how dangerous this could get.

"Okay, I'll support Ianto on the right; you take the left, and we'll keep our arms touching on his back. Owen can hold onto you from the other side." Worried, he asked again, "You sure you can do this?"

"Yes," she snapped, not wanting to waste her strength. Still holding Jack's hand, she concentrated, and then they awkwardly dragged the stunned Ianto to a standing position while still maintaining contact.

Moaning a few times, Ianto sluggishly opened his eyes. "Wha?"

"Getting you out of here," Jack reassured him, as he and Melissa decided she was going to have to leave them standing for a moment and cut Owen's ropes by herself.

Grabbing a Swiss Army knife from her pocket, she bent over Owen and began to saw at his bonds. By the time she was finished, sweat was lining her brow and her head had started to ache.

Painfully standing, his hand in Melissa's, Owen suddenly realized all was not right with the picture in front of him. "What the fuck? This is some Time Lord weird shit again, isn't it?"

"For once in your life, shut up!" she wheezed, barely able to talk. "You have to be touching me at all times, okay?"

"Yeah," he agreed, subdued and out of his element. She led him to Jack and Ianto, placing herself on the injured man's left side, supporting him as she grasped Jack's arm.

Lurching, they managed to open the rusty access door to the roof and descend the narrow stairs that led back to the top floor. She had never been so glad to see a lift in all her lives. Once inside, she dropped their hands and pulled out the sonic screwdriver, fixing the lift so that it would not return to the top floor.

Exhausted, she sagged against the wall, the claustrophobic space tilting at odd angles and spinning slowly to the pounding in her head. Time doubled back like a lazy river, and she could hear an echo in the words of concern they all voiced at her, although she couldn't concentrate well enough to answer. Obstinate, she managed to make it to the SUV on her own. However, her senses had contracted to a narrow tunnel of muted perception. Later, she somehow knew that they had stopped. Yearning for the safety of the Hub, she opened the car door, only to collapse painfully on the ground.

Words washed over her as intense emotions overwhelmed her. Blazing anger tore through her mind, and then pain rocked her body. She shrank away from its cause, whimpering in fear, but it continued to press her. Incoherent, she began to scream, begging that it stop.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She woke up in her bed, the early morning sunlight a dagger in her eyes. Groaning, she feebly tried to block the light with her right arm. There was an absence, and she felt it keenly. Delirious, she called out, over and over, until her voice was but a ragged whisper. Gentle hands tried to calm her, placing a warm, dark washcloth over her eyes, the better to block the light, but they were not the hands she craved, and she was inconsolable.

"Jack?" Her voice was but a croak, but it made the boy sitting next to her jump.

"Mom? Can you understand me?"

"Jack?" Her voice was mournful and weakening. Before her son could call out to her again, she had slipped back into unconsciousness. Disheartened, he made a phone call before putting his head in his hands, finally giving in to despair.

"Jack?" The plaintive nature of her query tore at the man's heart.

"No, Sweetheart," he said sadly. "It's Owen. Try to stay with us this time, okay?" But she had already slipped away once again.

"Jack?" The room was dark and for the first time she struggled to open her eyes.

"Mama? Can you hear me? It's Susan." The young woman was already holding her mother's hand, so she gave it a squeeze. Her hopes soared when she received a weak squeeze in return, but they were quickly dashed when her mother gave no further response.

"Jack?"

There was only silence.

"Jack?"

She drifted listlessly in her memories. Something so profound was absent that she could not comprehend continuing without it. She was just too tired. That something else was wrong tickled the back of her mind, but she scarcely paid attention to it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Melissa?" A hand squeezed hers, but she gave no indication that she was aware of the touch on any level.

"Melissa?" It was hours later, and his voice was more forlorn and desperate. Cracked lips pressed against her forehead, but again, there was no response.

"Melissa?" It was a day later and he hadn't left her side for more than a few minutes. He was frightened now, and his fear was filled with guilty recriminations. With a sigh, he settled back in the chair, wishing with all his being that he could have done everything differently.

"Jack?" The voice was but a soft murmur, but it shot through the exhausted man in the room.

"I'm here," he promised, laying his hand on her cheek.

"No," she protested weakly in disbelief, her eyes closed. "Alone."

Desperate, he entered her mind, finding himself back on the rocky precipice, only this time, there was no storm, no faces, no sky, nothing but the sound of the wind whistling through the air. She was nowhere to be seen.

"MELISSA!"

He called for what seemed like hours, backing away from the cliff to wander the dusty, rocky landscape painted in sepia tones. He found her teetering on the edge of a stark nothingness, her eyes devoid of emotion. Cautiously, he approached, but she gave no indication that she noticed him at all. Embracing her, he pulled her forcefully back from the edge, sitting her on his lap once they were a safe distance away from the awful void.

He stroked her cheek, held her hand, kissed her forehead, sang to her, rocked her, but she had no reaction. Intuitively, he poured his emotions into her, sharing his fear, his pain, his love and his hope until he felt tired and empty. Just as he was about to give up and retreat to reality, she exploded into being, filling him with her thoughts and emotions as a sun radiates its heat upon the earth.

Delighted, she stood before him, once again wearing the long, beautiful green dress that highlighted the life in her eyes. "I missed you!" She laughed with joy as she threw herself against him.

"I missed you, too," he responded as he sat her on the edge of the table underneath the wooden pavilion, the roar of the waterfall a soothing hum in the background.

He kissed her, his tongue melting into her mouth as she welcomed his touch. Groaning, he reluctantly removed his hands from her thighs to reach her back and the tiny, delicate buttons that trapped her. Growing impatient with his progress, he abruptly thought the dress away, exposing her bare skin. Kissing her shoulder, he made the wind caress the rest of her body. She responded with an ardent zeal, more than eager to prove to herself that he was real. Their minds joined so seamlessly that she could pretend for moment that they had never parted, and the past few days had been nothing more than a bad dream.

"Jack."

He kissed her tenderly before separating from her. Carrying her in his arms, he laid her on the grass nearby, covering her in the warmth of his body. "Are you okay?"

Turning to look at him, she smiled radiantly while stifling a huge yawn. "Perfect, content even. Just a little tired."

"Rest. We can talk later. I promise to be here when you wake."

Grateful, she closed her eyes and was soon asleep. He came to awareness in the chair beside her in the darkened bedroom. For a moment, he could not comprehend that everything had taken place inside his mind, and then, feeling wetness against his pants, he realized with a wry grin that their union had spilled into reality, quite literally in his case. Chucking his clothes into the hamper in the corner, he whistled jauntily as he walked to the dresser to look for some flannel pajamas to put on after his shower.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Taken completely by surprise, he whirled around to meet the raging glare of Dr. Owen Harper.

"Christ, I don't need to see that!" the medic shouted as he got a full view of Jack's body in all its naked glory.

Grabbing a robe off a hook in the bathroom, he quickly covered himself. "Sh. You'll wake her up; she's tired."

"She's unconscious, Captain!" Owen retorted loudly in shocked disbelief. "Even I didn't think you could stoop so low as to take advantage of someone like that! Did you lose a few marbles on that little trip of yours?"

Stung, he closed the distance between them to tower over the doctor. "Say one more word and you will be very, very sorry."

Whatever Owen might have said was lost as Melissa grumpily made her presence known. "Jack? I thought you were going to let me sleep."

Ignoring Owen, although he still wanted to hit the medic, Jack crossed the room to sit beside her on the bed. Kissing her forehead, he tried to smooth her tangled hair. "I'm just going to take a shower. Sorry, I woke you. Go back to sleep."

"Jesus Christ," Owen ranted. "Sex is not a cure-all, no matter what you two think! And I still think you took advantage of the situation, Captain. You had no business using her to shore up your own insecurities. You ran away, remember?"

As Jack's rage at his friend surged, Melissa abruptly turned away from him and started sobbing. "I'm sorry; I'm so sorry. I know you have every right to be angry with me. I couldn't help you. I just let him take you. It's all my fault."

Worried by her abrupt change in mood, he tried to soothe her, his argument with Owen momentarily forgotten. "Nobody's mad at you, Sweetheart, I promise. Nothing was your fault, okay?"

"Don't lie. I can feel how angry you are. I couldn't protect you. I tried so hard, and he took you anyway. He hurt you, so much, and then I couldn't feel you at all. All alone-so alone in my head. I can't live like that again!" Her cries reaching hysteria, she curled into a tight ball.

He pulled her up instinctively, and she wrapped her arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably. Perplexed, he attempted to calm his mind. "I'm not angry at you, understand? I was mad at Owen, not you."

"Owen?" She desperately wanted to believe him, but her mind felt so muffled, it was difficult to process her feelings and his words.

Standing next to Jack, Owen began to feel distinctly uneasy. "Yeah, it's my fault Jack's fuming. Said some things that he didn't appreciate. Might have jumped to a few conclusions."

Sniffling, she slowly calmed down as Jack continued to hold her. "Better?" he asked as she relaxed against him.

"Something's wrong," she admitted hesitantly. "My mind's . . . mushy, and I feel . . . yishy."

The two men shared a look. "Can you be more descriptive than mushy, Melissa?" Owen finally asked. "And is yishy even a word?"

"Yishy, you know, like scrungy? All greasy and grimy and sticky and full of dead skin cells, and just, well, yishy." She didn't understand why she was having such trouble making herself understood.

Jack chuckled. "I imagine there's a good reason for that feeling. I'll help you get clean in a few minutes. How about telling Owen what you mean by your brain feels mushy."

Puzzled, she tried to clarify. "It feels mushy, Jack. It wants to rest, close eyes and stay closed. Something's missing. I can't-something. A little part of my mind is screaming. It's really, really afraid. It's making the rest of me foggy." Frustrated, she raised her voice. "It's just mushy. Why can't you understand mushy?"

Seeing Owen's face tense as Melissa described her symptoms, Jack tried not to panic. Gently, he stroked her back. "Tell you what, why don't I give you a bath, get some clean sheets on the bed and let you rest. I bet we can figure it out when you wake up. Susan told me it's been nine days. That's a long time to be out of it, even for you. Maybe you just need some real sleep."

With almost a childlike earnestness, she replied, "I don't think mushy brains get better with sleep, Jack, but I really want a bath. I don't like being yishy."


	37. Mushy Brains

Author's Notes - Thanks to padma97 and Lorna Roxen for the kind reviews. I'm glad people are still interested in this story. Since I missed an entire week, I thought I'd update again today.

* * *

><p>Jack was finally clean, dressed as if he were going into work, although he doubted the Hub was on the agenda today. Susan and Matthew were thankfully at school. When he had returned the day before wearing the desert clothing of his childhood, his face tanned to the point of being almost leathery, they had been overjoyed, expecting their mother to wake at any moment. When that didn't happen, they blamed it on Jack. Matthew went so far as to announce that any man who abandoned them, again, definitely wasn't father material. That had stung on many levels, and he had been relieved to see them gone when he walked into the den after his shower.<p>

"She's asleep. Thanks for changing the sheets." He walked into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Owen shrugged. "I've had to do worse." Following Jack into the kitchen, he poured his own coffee. "Shit, I liked it better when Ianto was over here. Your kids make coffee strong enough to melt the spoon."

Jack merely raised his eyebrows, surprised that Ianto had been hanging out at the house. Although, Melissa had saved his life; perhaps he was just trying to return the favor by being useful. He drank his coffee, deciding he needed the caffeine before attempting round two with the doctor.

"I think I owe you an apology, Captain," Owen astonished him by saying.

"Oh?" Jack just stood there passively, wondering what was going to come out of the medic's mouth.

"Don't make it so bloody hard, Jack! I assumed, hell, we all assumed, you left of your own free will. Thought you chose your ex-partner over us. Now Melissa says that Hart grabbed you. I probably wasn't fair to you when you returned." Owen hated apologies; they made him angry, as many things in his life did.

"How could you believe that I would leave her? Or the kids? Or that I would abandon Torchwood?"

Their assumptions hurt his feelings in way he hadn't allowed in over a century. He had put faith in his team and forgiven them on so many occasions, but even Owen still did not trust him completely.

"Look, I said I was sorry. If it's any consolation, we did try to track you, but it was like you had disappeared off the face of the earth."

Since that was exactly what had happened, he chose to let go of his anger. They couldn't have done anything, even if they had witnessed his abduction. It was time to put that in the past and concentrate on the wellbeing of his wife.

"What's wrong with her, Owen? How the hell can she feel my pain? Why does she sound so unsure of herself all of a sudden?"

The doctor reluctantly finished his coffee, wishing he had better news to give. As Jack paced the small room, Owen leaned uncomfortably against the counter. "First of all, why are you surprised she feels your pain? She told me you were suffering when Abaddon was sucking all that energy from you; then she told me when you had died. Isn't that another one of her Time Lord tricks?"

"She felt that?" he asked, horrified at the thought.

"Yeah, and then a minute or two after you left the car park, she started seizing and shouting your name. It lasted about three minutes." He watched in concern as Jack abruptly stopped pacing, his face ashen.

"I was being electrocuted," he admitted softly, hands shaking as he relived the moment when John Hart appeared in the Hub and managed to sneak up behind him with a Sontaran correction rod. The pain from the alien training stick had made him wish he had merely been killed, and it had incapacitated him long enough for his misguided, slightly psychopathic ex-partner to teleport him to a very unhappy family reunion. Shaking his head, he tried to clear the images of what had happened next from his mind.

"Christ," Owen whispered softly in sympathy. "Telepathy's not my area of expertise, Captain. You're going to have to ask her for answers to that one. But didn't she say in the bedroom that she couldn't feel you anymore, and that she didn't want to live like that? Doesn't it sound like she has a connection to you at all times?"

"That's impossible, Owen," he answered dismissively. "Yes, certain telepathic species psychically bond with their mates, but humans don't have the level of . . . ." As he trailed off, he made an uneasy realization. "No, no, no."

"What?"

"I can't bond that way with her, but what if the connection's only one way? What if she bonded with me?"

What else had she said? She couldn't stand the hole in her head where the other Time Lords had been. Had she made the connection with him in a desperate attempt to lessen the silence? Why hadn't she said anything?

"Then I recommend you curtail dying for a while," Owen suggested sarcastically. In his own clumsy way, he was trying to make Jack feel better. He could see that his friend was extremely shaken, and wished he could reassure him. However, the doctor thought that some strange telepathic union was the least of their worries at the moment.

Knowing his friend wasn't going to like hearing his next theory, Owen brought it up anyway. "Forget the psychic shit for a minute. I'm more concerned about her brain injury."

Jack glanced up at him sharply. "What do you mean, brain injury?"

Upset, the doctor snapped. "Come on, Captain, don't tell me you didn't come to the same conclusion! Even she understands on some level that something's wrong. Since when have you heard her use descriptive adjectives as imprecise as mushy and yishy? As soon as she normally wakes up from an injury, she's hungry, energetic and ready to annoy all of us with her encyclopedic knowledge of galactic trivia. If she were a human, I'd be ordering a MRI, but she's never let me scan her, so I would have nothing to compare as a baseline reading."

Watching Jack sag before him, Owen finished regretfully, "All we can do is wait for her to wake up and start some basic tests. I'm sorry."

Devastated, Jack nodded numbly at his friend.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So, what did Jack have to say for himself, then?" Gwen interrogated Owen as he made a brief appearance in the Hub to pick up a few instruments that might help diagnose the extent of Melissa's injury.

Owen looked at her warily, not sure how to answer as Tosh and Ianto walked down the stairs to demand the same thing, although more politely. "He didn't run off," he finally stated, knowing it would be easier for everyone if Jack didn't have to do this himself.

"What happened, then?" Tosh asked in concern.

Fiddling with a few instruments, Owen paused a moment. "He, uh, Hart took him away, by force." No sense explaining about the psychic connection or whatever it was. Best keep it simple.

Ianto looked stricken. "How did he manage to get away?"

The medic stared at him in surprise. "I never asked." Seeing condemnation in the Welshman's eyes, Owen tried to defend himself. "We had other things to talk about. Melissa woke up this morning. She may be suffering the aftereffects of a stroke. I'm just grabbing some things that might help diagnose the damage."

Overcome, Tosh grabbed him in a tight hug. "How bad is it?"

Finding Tosh's display of affection strangely comforting, Owen had to swallow a lump in his throat. "No bloody idea. She fell back asleep about twenty minutes later. She's still quite groggy."

"So I assume Jack's not going to make it into the Hub today." Gwen commented carelessly, causing the others to stare at her in outraged shock.

"Would you be here if Rhys were ill, Gwen?" Ianto couldn't believe that Gwen was still jealous of Melissa. Hell, she hadn't done more than kiss Jack before his wife came into the picture. She had no reason to resent the woman.

Feeling the rebuke, Gwen tried to explain herself. "I didn't mean it like that. Some UNIT official is on his way over. Said he needed to speak to Jack personally. When I said he wasn't available, he became suspicious. Wanted to know if everything was all right. Said he was coming down anyway, and he expected to speak to Jack."

Groaning, Owen let go of Tosh. "You didn't happen to get the name of the UNIT official, did you, Gwen?" Neither he nor Jack completely trusted UNIT, even after the top level reorganization.

"Some brigadier. "Leftben, Leftbain?" He was speaking so quickly, I didn't have time to write his name down. Tosh can pull up the telephone recording if you need the name, can't she?"

"Leftbridge-Stewart?" Ianto asked in awe.

"That's it!" Gwen cried in relief.

Smiling, Owen relaxed temporarily. "No problem, then. Ianto, would you escort Brigadier Leftbridge-Stewart to Jack's house when he gets here? Just give me a heads up before you leave." Turning to Gwen, he mentioned, "Give the man access to anything he wants. Right now, we need all the friends we can get."

As Gwen and Ianto left, he pulled Tosh into a hug of his own. "I don't know if I can do this, Tosh. Jack's counting on me, but my knowledge isn't worth shit in this case."

"You'll do your best," she promised, giving him a kiss. They hadn't had more than a few minutes alone together since that night at the Hard Rock Cafe, but she could tell how apprehensive Owen was. He did not take failure well. Knowing Susan was the only one in that household who might even think to make dinner, she excused herself after Owen left, resolving to help in the only way she knew how.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Susan and Matthew went home straight after school. They were anxious to see if their mother had regained consciousness, although Matthew did not want to see Captain Jack's face if he could avoid it. He was still fuming that the man had disappeared when they had needed him most. It was a pleasant shock to both of them to find their mother sitting on the sofa, Jack trying to coax her to eat a few spoonfuls of chicken noodle soup.

"Mama!" Susan was at her side in an instant, her backpack forgotten on the floor. Jack put the soup on the side table, knowing he wouldn't get her to eat any more of it anytime soon.

"Susan! It's so good to see you! I love you." Tears ran down her face as she smiled happily and gave her daughter a hug. "Don't you want a hug, too, Matthew?"

Relieved to see his mother, he nevertheless chose to be belligerent. "Thought I'd wait until he was out of the way."

Her smile wavered as she glanced between Jack and her son. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to be in the same room with him! He left you when you needed him! I don't know why you're being so nice to such a big jerk!" He threw his trumpet case to the ground, making her flinch. Jack stood abruptly, ready to leave the room.

She looked up at Jack curiously. "Why is everyone mad at you? First Owen, and now Matthew. Susan, are you angry at Jack?"

Reluctantly, her daughter admitted, "More disappointed, I guess. You kept asking for him, and he wasn't here."

"That wasn't his fault," she said matter-of-factly, not understanding their attitudes.

Tenderly, Jack informed her, "They all thought I left voluntarily, Melissa. You were the only one who knew I was taken."

Distressed, her smile crumpled. "I'm sorry. All I ever do is cause problems." She started crying softly, unnerving her children, who weren't used to such emotional displays from her.

Sitting next to her, he let her cry against him, concentrating on feeling calm. Gradually, she quieted, although he realized that she had fallen asleep rather than getting her emotions under control.

Looking in sympathy at Matthew, who was obviously upset at distressing her, he spoke evenly. "I understand why you're angry, Matthew, but I didn't leave your mother or you and Susan voluntarily. I hope you'll forgive me for not being here when you needed me. I got here as soon as I could."

Gulping, he nodded. "What's wrong with Mom?" He knew he'd been unfair and was feeling very awkward.

"We don't know yet. Owen thinks she may have some sort of injury that's making her act a little differently." Jack phrased his answer as gently as he could.

Involuntarily, Susan took a step away from her mother; the girl looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Will she get better?"

"She's a whole lot better than she was yesterday." He responded with a smile, trying to be upbeat. "She's going to be fine; it may take a while for her to control her emotions like you're used to. Just be patient, okay?"

Eyes still wide, Susan nodded, picking up her backpack and retreating wordlessly upstairs.

Matthew studied his mother and Jack for a few seconds. "You promise not to leave again?"

Sighing, he answered, "I didn't want to leave in the first place, Matt."

The teen continued to stare, not responding. Finally, he moved a little closer. "Is it okay to touch her?"

"Of course," he reassured the boy. "She doesn't have a disease, and she won't break. She's just a little confused right now."

Tentatively, he sat down on the other side of his mother, holding her hand as she dozed. "I'm sorry, Dad. I was way out of line. Are you okay?" Matthew studied Jack's bronzed, wind-blown face, and saw a deep sadness in his blue eyes.

"I'll be fine," he reassured the boy, touched that Matthew had thought about him at all. After a few minutes, he suggested, "Why don't you go work on your homework. Owen will be here soon, and when your mother wakes up, he's going to run her through a few tests. You might want to keep Susan company when he does."

Understanding his sister was not handling their mother's emotional outburst very well, Matthew readily agreed, taking his backpack with him to his room. Jack followed him upstairs, carrying Melissa in his arms. He had just put her in their bed when Owen knocked on the door.

"And you thought house calls were a thing of the past," the medic commented breezily as he wheeled in several pieces of equipment. "How's Melissa?"

"Woke up, got upset when Matthew yelled at me, cried herself to sleep. It's been an eventful quarter hour." Jack tried to keep his tone light, but failed miserably.

Remembering Ianto's question, Owen turned his attention to his boss as he set up the equipment. "Sounds like she's no worse than before. Try not to worry so much right now." Taking his medical scanner out of his bag, he pointed it at the Captain.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jack asked in annoyance.

"I've got plenty of baseline readings on you. Just making sure your little trip didn't affect you too badly. I haven't forgotten that you heal perfectly once you've died, but I did notice how tanned you are. You've been gone a while, haven't you?"

"I don't want to discuss it," he answered flatly, his pulse beginning to race.

"I can tell," Owen answered calmly as he finished taking the readings. Then, he rummaged through his satchel, pulling out several vials of liquid. Quickly preparing a hypo spray, he injected into Jack's neck before the man could as much as flinch.

"What was that for?" he slurred as the fast acting sedative began to work on his body.

"You're malnourished, vitamin deficient, sleep-deprived, and your white blood count is almost non-existent. This will boost your immune system and force you to rest." Seeing his boss try to fight the effects of the sedative, Owen carefully pushed him down until he was lying on the sofa. "Now, I won't pretend to be able to carry you, but I think you'll be comfortable here. What do you think?"

Jack wanted to tell Owen exactly what he thought, but found it too difficult to do anything but close his eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack woke to the sound of familiar voices. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was, and reflexively jerked upright, the better to be prepared for whatever threat faced him.

"Steady there, Captain," the Brigadier counseled as the Torchwood leader put his hands to his head to try to still the pounding inside his skull. "Dr. Harper thought you would be out for at least another four hours."

"Water," he croaked, his tongue thick and his mouth extremely dry. Owen handed him a glassful from the kitchen, then started to take new readings with the scanner.

Glaring at his medic, he greedily gulped down the entire glass in just a few seconds.

"Oi! I'm not cleaning up if you drink it so fast you choke." Finished taking his blood pressure, Owen ran the scanner again. "How the hell did you metabolize the sedative that quickly?"

"Time Agency," he said shortly, still trying to deal with the pounding headache.

"Well you didn't do yourself any favors," he responded acidly. "You need to rest, Captain."

"Later, Owen." Gratefully, he accepted the two aspirin that the Brigadier held out in his hand. Chewing them up and swallowing without water, he took a deep breath to clear his head and smiled at the Leftbridge-Stewart. "So, Alistair, is this a social call?"

"Hardly, Captain. If it was, then I'd have picked a damn inconvenient time, hadn't I? Sorry to hear about your wife's injury, and your abduction. I think UNIT and Torchwood should have a system in place if one of us requires assistance, eh?" Leftbridge-Stewart regarded Captain Harkness thoughtfully. The man looked like he had been through the trenches and then some. No wonder his medic had tried to sedate him.

Raising his eyebrow, Jack quipped, "You mean, we should have a system in place to call you if we get into trouble. I can't imagine UNIT needing the assistance of six oddballs who sit on top of a rift in space and time in the middle of Cardiff."

"Watch who you're calling an oddball, Jack. I consider myself bloody normal compared to you." Owen was preparing another syringe under the disapproving eye of his boss.

"Owen, if that's another sedative, I will have to shoot you, and I can't afford to go recruiting right now."

"No worries, mate. I don't plan on wasting a dose of that on you again. This is just the equivalent to a multivitamin. I'll even give you a choice on where you take it." Owen held the long syringe in front of him with a gleam in his eye. He had purposefully used old-fashioned tech instead of the hypo spray he could have used. Served Jack right for shrugging off the sedative much too early.

Knowing Owen was getting his revenge, Jack chuckled good-naturedly. "Seeing as how the Brig's here, I'll take it in my arm. Wouldn't want to make a guest uncomfortable."

Sir Alistair snorted, remembering too many times when Captain Harkness had done just that. Before he could comment, however, Melissa walked unsteadily into the room.

"What's going on? Brigadier? What are you doing here?"

Both Owen and Jack dropped what they were doing to assist her to the sofa. Clasping her hand tightly, Jack asked, "How are you feeling, Sweetheart?"

Looking at him in exasperation as Owen piled a blanket on top of her, she complained, "You only use terms of endearments like that when you're worried about me, and Owen's hovering over me like a mother hen. Want to explain to me what's going on? Good to see you Brigadier, by the way."

"And you, Mrs. Harkness, although it seems I'm in the way. Perhaps I should come back tomorrow." Grabbing his cane, the Brigadier started to rise.

"Wait just a minute, Alistair; you haven't even told me what you came all this way to talk about."

"Ow!" Jack glared at Owen, extremely annoyed that the medic had chosen to give him the vitamin shot after all.

"Didn't think I would forget did you?" Owen smirked.

"What's wrong, Jack? Are you okay?" Melissa teared up, suddenly afraid she was missing something important.

"I'm fine," he soothed, rubbing her arm. "Owen was having his little joke. It was just vitamins. He doesn't think I eat right."

"You promise?" She begged, unsure of everything, distress showing clearly on her face.

"Yes." He kissed her forehead, and tried very hard not to worry while she was so close to him.

Decisively, Owen took control. Voice booming, he commanded. "For once, everyone is going to listen to me. Jack, you take the Brigadier into the kitchen and find out why he's here. Then, you are going to sleep, with or without drugs, your choice." More gently, he addressed his other patient. "Melissa, we're going to stay in here, and I'm going to run some tests, okay?"

"Will they hurt?" she asked timidly. "Tests always hurt."

"Not a bit," he reassured her, holding up the medical scanner. "You remember this, right?"

"I'm not an idiot, Owen," she snapped at him unexpectedly. "I think I can recognize your medical scanner by now."

"Nobody said you were," he answered calmly. "I'm also going to ask you some questions that I want you to answer."

Irritably, she replied, "Fine, but it's a waste of time. I feel perfect." Turning to Jack, however, she once again became uncertain. "Are you sure you aren't upset at me, Jack?"

"Not at all," he reassured her. "I'm going to be in the kitchen if you need me, okay?"

"Okay." Nervously, she began to twist the hem of her robe.

As Owen herded Jack to the kitchen, he slipped a receiver in his hand. Closing the door, Jack offered Alistair some tea before setting up the small receiver in the middle of the table. "What's that for?" the Brigadier asked.

"Melissa seems to be picking up my feelings, but she isn't interpreting them very well right now. Owen didn't want me too close to her when he started his tests. He'll turn on the transmitter once he's finished with his physical examination." Taking a sip of tea, he changed the subject. "So, you going to tell my why you're here, Brigadier?"

Looking discomfited, the Leftbridge-Stewart admitted, "Well, it hardly seems important now. Captain Magumbo had some concerns about the woman who appeared after the Doctor's death claiming that she could straighten out the timeline. She won't give her name to anyone, starts talking about the fragility of a causal nexus and a lot of other nonsense if you ask her why. We granted her access to the TARDIS, but when she appeared with plans to rip the TARDIS apart to build a time machine, it made several UNIT officials uncomfortable, to say the least. She finally gave your name as a reference. Thought I'd check her out."

Thinking of Rose, Jack smiled tiredly. Had it only a little over a week ago that Melissa had come back from London? Trying hard not to remember the six months it had been for him, he reassured the Brigadier.

"She's fantastic, a former companion of the Doctor who's been searching for him for the last few months. Long, complicated story, she got trapped in a parallel universe where time runs ahead of us. She knows something bad is coming, and wants to make sure the Doctor's around to stop it. If anyone can find a way to change history and bring him back, then it's her."

"Is she a Time Lord, then? I know the Doctor thought he was the last, but obviously he was wrong on that count."

Jack's face became an impassive mask as memories of the Master washed over him. He had recalled the horror of the Valiant as Gray had slowly tortured him to the point of death. "She's not a Time Lord. There's another one of those out there, but he's not a threat at this time."

"A threat? Good God, man! Are you telling me the Master's still alive?" Agitated, he pounded the table.

"You know him?" Jack asked incredulously.

"I've had several run-ins with that reprobate. Always was slightly off-center, if you get my drift. I really don't want to face him without the Doctor."

Jack hurriedly reassured the Brigadier; he didn't think he could stomach any stories involving the Master just now. "Like I said, he's not a threat at this time. He's stuck a long way from Earth, and without the TARDIS he won't be escaping."

Before the UNIT commander could reply, Owen's voice could be heard through the receiver. "The scanner isn't picking up anything abnormal, Melissa. I'm going to do ask you some questions, if that's okay." Jack stared intently at the machine, waiting anxiously.

"You know, you could declare me perfect and go spend some time with Toshiko. I really don't see why you're so concerned about me." Her voice sounded teasing and oh so normal to Jack's ears, and he hoped that whatever was bothering her had resolved itself on its own.

"Not a chance. I have to earn my bonus this month. Okay, first question, what's the last thing you remember before waking up today?"

"Come on, Owen, you're asking me that? I remember everything, or have you forgotten?"

"Just give me the abbreviated version, and stop trying to dance around the question."

"Fine," she answered petulantly. "I . . . I was . . . ." Her voice started to sound increasingly unsure as she continued. "I saved you and Ianto. I remember that. I . . . took you somewhere? Jack was with us, wasn't he?"

Suddenly, she became very agitated and nervous. "He's going to be angry, so very, very angry. I lied to him, but I had to do it. He's going to hate me."

"What did you lie to him about?" Owen asked very softly.

"Don't ask me that," she ordered immediately. "It makes my head hurt, and I feel all scared again. All mushy brained."

"No worries. You don't have to answer. Hear me, Melissa? We're not going to talk about that right now."

Jack strained to hear through the silence, guessing that Owen was attempting to calm her. Wishing that he could go in there and comfort her, he resisted the impulse, staying in the kitchen.

After a few moments, he heard Owen again. "Okay, I'm going to ask you to do a few things; don't worry; just do your best." She must have nodded because Owen began his instructions. "Raise your right hand."

"You don't seriously expect me to do something as trivial as that do you?" Then a second later, she asked, "Satisfied?"

"Left hand." There was a long-suffering sigh, but she must have complied.

"Good. Stand up and raise your left leg."

"Want me to do the cancan, too?"

"Just raise your right leg next, will you?" "Great. Touch your nose. And your toes. And your head. Your chin. Ears."

"Want to see me touch my elbow to my nose?"

"You can do that?" he asked, surprised.

Laughing, she answered, "No, just seeing if you still have a sense of humor."

"It went missing ages ago. Now, I want you to draw a square, circle and triangle on this piece of paper."

"Why don't you ask for something interesting, like a tetra decagon, or a double helix, or a triple helix for that matter." "Oh, alright. Give me that paper."

"Not bad."

"Hey! If you want to critique my artistic talents, at least let me sketch something."

"Another time. I do want to see Tosh tonight, after all." "Okay, we're going to play word associations. I'll say a word, and then you tell me the first word that pops into your head."

"I do know what word association means, Owen." The sarcasm and impatience was back in her voice.

"Time."

"Lord."

"Apple."

"Fruit."

"Rhinoceros."

"Judoon."

"What the hell's a Judoon?"

"Big, tough Rhino police; they work for the Shadow Proclamation."

"Of course, should have known that right off." Owen's sarcasm had gone up a few notches.

"Earth."

"Blue." She paused for a moment, and then said hotly, "Well, it is!"

"Never said it wasn't. Lamp."

"Shade. Can't we go on to something else?"

"Fine by me. What's the square root of sixty-five thousand, five hundred and thirty-six?"

"Two hundred fifty-six."

Name the first five prime numbers."

"In the Arabic number system?" she asked mischievously.

"Yes."

"Two, three, seven, eleven, thirteen."

"Name as many animals as you can in five seconds that start with the letter 'B'."

"Earth animals?" she teased. "In English?"

"Are you stalling for time?" he countered, not amused.

"Fine. Boa constrictor, bustard, bush pig, Burmese cat, baboon, burying beetle, bluegill, burro, boletus, bass, butterfly, bumble bee, buzzard, butterball, bacterium, bird, bush cricket, bunny, bullfrog, bull, bull snake, black swan, beisa oryx, bee, bulldog, bivalve, buffalo, buck, blister beetle, birdwing, bighorn sheep, Bengal tiger, bed bug, bear, bat-"

"You're way over your time limit, or are you just trying to impress me?"

"Ianto's the one with the stopwatch, Owen, not me."

"Right," he said slowly. "What time is it right now?"

"I don't know," she answered impatiently.

"If you had to guess."

"Matthew's playing his trumpet. Is it the weekend, Owen?"

"It's Tuesday," he told her matter-of-factly, trying not to panic her. "Do you know how long you were unconscious?"

"No."

"Can you tell me how long you've been answering my questions?"

"What does it matter? My head's starting to hurt, Owen. Can't we do this later?"

Tears began to fall from Jack's eyes as he listened to the last Time Lord admit that she could no longer sense the passage of time.

"We'll be finished soon," he promised, "Just give it your best guess."

"Fifty rels?"

"Is that English?"

"Two hours? Come on, Owen, my head really hurts. Can't I just go back to sleep?"

"Sorry," the doctor apologized. "I know you're tired. Why don't you rest on the sofa while I find out what the Brigadier wanted with Jack." He sadly watched as her eyes blinked closed, wondering what would happen when she realized her deficit. For now, he was grateful that her mind was protecting her enough that she remained blissfully unaware.

As Owen walked resignedly into the kitchen, the Brigadier slipped quietly out the front door, having already given his condolences to a shattered Jack Harkness. The Captain was sitting at the table, gripping the receiver as if he could change the sounds coming out of it, his face grim. The devastation on Jack's face was terrible to witness, and Owen briefly worried about his friend's ability to cope with yet another tragedy.

Sitting down, Owen decided honesty was the only thing he could offer. "Jack, this goes well beyond my limited knowledge of Time Lords. I don't even know if her condition is permanent or temporary. I think on a subconscious level she knows exactly what's wrong, but her mind's not able to accept it right now."

Elbows on the table, Jack rested his head in his hands, unable to accept the diagnosis. After a few moments, he mutely got up, walked into the den, and picked up his wife. Carrying her into their bedroom, he closed and locked the door, leaving Owen standing uneasily alone in the den.


	38. All That Matters

Author's Notes - Thanks again to Padma97 for reviewing, and for everyone who's reading. It took a while to edit this chapter down to a T rating.

* * *

><p>Waking from a long, deep sleep, Jack looked around in confusion. Something had awakened him as the muted light of dawn struggled to breach the white mini-blinds in the bedroom. He listened for sounds that did not belong, but gave up after five minutes when all he heard were the comforting creaks and groans of the house. Bright-eyed after such a long slumber, he reached for Melissa, pulling her against him, inhaling the comforting smell of her skin.<p>

"You know that tickles," she complained playfully as turned to face him. She had been waiting impatiently for Jack to wake up for a while, even going so far as to pinch his nose a time or two. Happy to see him finally awake, she beamed at him.

Her smile was infectious, and he smiled back, their problems momentarily forgotten. "I can't help it. I love smelling you."

"I like it better when you're a little more hands on."

"I like that, too," he assured her, nuzzling her neck.

"I'm sorry."

He stilled at her words, wondering which minefield they were about to enter. She began to run her fingers through his hair. "Did he take you to Gray?"

"Yes."

The nightmare of that reunion filled his thoughts and he clung to her in despair, finally allowing himself to grieve in front of the one person who would understand. She held him tightly, allowing him to mourn the innocent boy his brother had been. As he trembled from the tears he refused to shed, she tried to assure him of his absolution.

"It wasn't your fault. It was the raiders. Please don't blame yourself. You did everything you could."

"I could have found him," he argued bitterly.

"You tried, remember? You told me how you looked for him as a Time Agent."

"It wasn't enough." He turned away from her, not quite ready to forgive himself.

"What did he do to you?" She didn't want to ask the question; it hurt her to know that he had been at Gray's mercy and she had been unable to help yet again.

"He didn't know about my problem with staying dead, so he tortured me slowly, in very inventive ways." She winced as he continued. "He told me that everything was my fault. I let go of his hand, and he was captured and then tortured for years. At first, I thought I deserved it. I thought that if he punished me enough, maybe he would eventually forgive me, but he never did. Finally, he got bored, and decided to poison me. I was dying and suddenly I realized that my brother had died a long time ago."

She squeezed his hand in sympathy, and he turned, burying his face against her chest, breathing raggedly until he could speak again. "When I knew I was dying, I stole my Vortex Manipulator from him. I was too weak to make the long trip here, and I was afraid I would lead Gray to you and the kids if I did. So, I programmed my wrist strap to take me five hundred miles away, and I died in the middle of the Peninsula. I admit by then I wasn't thinking too rationally. I don't know why I just didn't use it again, but it took me a week to walk to a settlement, and then a month to arrange transport to the capital. I had to make sure he wouldn't be hurting anyone else, so I reported his little torture chamber to the authorities. I didn't stick around to see what they found; I jumped here as soon as I could."

Teary-eyed, she whispered, "I'm sorry you had to die alone. I mess everything up. I couldn't stand to see them die. But I never wanted you to suffer. You have to believe me, Jack."

"Shh." He rubbed the scars on her back, knowing she felt guilty for so many things that weren't her fault. "It was worth the suffering. You saved Owen and Ianto, and Gray thinks I'm dead. We don't have to worry about him coming here and blowing up Cardiff, or shooting Tosh. Owen's not going to die in a nuclear power plant, and I am not letting him go anywhere near the Pharm. This reality is altered; it's not going to happen like it did before."

He had meant to reassure her that he would not make the same mistakes twice, but the realization that he remembered everything in the proper timeline filled her with dread. "You must hate me," she said quietly, her voice heavy with regret. "I stole you from Ianto, and kept so many things from you. You chose to reach out to me, and I embraced it, knowing you never would have in the real world. I've always been selfish when it comes to you, and I know sorry isn't good enough this time. I'll take the kids and move to London. It'll be easier to work with Rose-"

He stopped her self-recriminations with a harsh kiss. "Don't do this. I love you; it's always been you. Yes, I care for Yan, but it's not the same circumstances as before, is it? Besides, you've never been upset at sharing in the past. What happened before is my fault, and I was a stupid ape letting my fear of the Bad Wolf come between us."

Suddenly he straddled her, pinning her underneath him. Kissing her passionately, he made his hands lay claim to her entire body as he impatiently tugged off their clothes.

"You're wrong, you know." He breathed hotly in her ear. "When everything changes, I'll remember and find that stupid watch and rescue you and apologize for being such an idiot. But this is the real world right now, and you are mine."

As he felt his own arousal nearly overwhelm her, he demanded, "Tell me this is real."

"It's real," she gasped, her guilt finally vanquished as they sought comfort in each other.

Spent, they lay in each other's arms, enjoying the physical sensation of their trust and intimacy. Lazily, Jack caressed her skin with his rough fingertips, wondering how to ask her about the psychic bond he suspected she had formed with him.

"I didn't initiate it, Jack; you did," she said out loud in an amused tone of voice. "Forgot that we're touching? I can hear every unguarded thought in that head of yours right now, you know."

Laughing, he thought about a very vivid fantasy he had enjoyed dreaming up on the long trek through the Boeshane desert.

She slapped him playfully on the arm. "I'm not quite up for that one right now."

"Does that mean you will be later?" he asked hopefully. When she just smiled at him, he decided to ask, "How did I initiate a psychic bond, and why can't I feel it?"

"Remember when you reached into my mind after Manger had killed Susan and Matthew?"

His hands stilled on her stomach. He didn't like to be reminded of that horror. "I remember."

"I had retreated to the very center of my being, and you somehow found me." Your comforting me there was an offer to give yourself to me, even if you didn't understand what you were offering. I should have explained or at least asked, I know. But, I love you so much, and I felt so alone. I wanted you so badly. I just accepted." The more she tried to explain, the more agitatied she became, until she finished apologetically. "It doesn't make up for their absence, but it's so much better than being completely alone in my head."

"I'm glad, then. I just don't understand why I can't feel you like that. Is it because I'm human?"

"No," she admitted softly. "It's because I haven't offered myself to you."

"Why not?" he asked confused and a little hurt.

"It's a permanent bond, Jack. The only way to break it is through death, and I know that I'll die before you. I can't ask you to go through that."

"But you feel it every time I die. Does the bond break then?" He shuddered to think of her going through that pain each time his life ended.

"Yes, but it reforms as you revive. For some reason, I don't feel the desolation while you're dead. It's almost like the bond's simply waiting for you. I was more distressed when Hart took you so far away. I couldn't feel you at all, probably because you're not as strong of a telepath as I am." She kissed him, willing him to know that her reluctance was not a rejection.

"I want you, all of you. I'm going to outlive everyone I love, Melissa, and it's going to hurt. Don't deny me this, please."

Her resolve melted as he spoke the undeniable truth. He would lose her no matter what; how could she say no? In an instant, she was inside his mind, deeper than she had ever been before. She found him in a cold desert, wearing a suit of armor, resembling a medieval knight, complete with a sword in his hand. His face blazed with the fiery glow of the Vortex, and his eyes held the wisdom of age.

"Jack," she whispered, completely in awe at the man before her, unaware of anything but him.

When he finally noticed her, he grinned, instantly becoming the familiar figure she loved. "Thank you," he told her sincerely, kissing her chastely on the lips. "What do we need to do?"

"Whatever comes naturally," she smiled with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Let me show you what I had a month to think about, then."

"Perfect."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Glancing reluctantly at the clock, Jack decided it was past time to shower and get dressed. They couldn't hide in the bedroom forever, although considering how they had passed the time, he was tempted. The new bond he shared with his wife was incredible, and a little overwhelming. Touching, he could feel every twinge of emotion she had.

"Shower together?" she playfully begged as he entered the bathroom, a pouty look on her face that looked more ridiculous than pitiful.

"If you promise not to keep your hands to yourself, Mrs. Harkness."

"I'm sure I can find something of yours to lather," she responded slyly as she turned on the hot water.

Much later, they finally started to dress, sharing the small bathroom vanity. Drying her hair, she watched him brush his teeth, smiling happily to herself. All of a sudden, she looked at him in surprise. "I'm famished!"

He answered without thinking. "It is past one, you know. I'm hungry, too. Guess we'll have to eat a late lunch."

"Poor Jack," she teased, "going hungry because his Time Lord wife can't keep track of time."

He felt her crushing panic as the significance of that statement finally pierced her consciousness. Shaking uncontrollably, her legs turned to jelly, and she began to hyperventilate. He grabbed her before she could sink to the floor, encouraging her to take slow, deep breaths while he struggled to maintain his own composure.

"I'm here," he repeated, over and over, knowing he couldn't offer her the hope that everything would be all right.

Eventually, her body calmed; yet her mind was so despondent that it threatened to crush him. He poured every positive thought and feeling he could imagine into their bond, hoping she would understand that he loved her unconditionally. Slowly, he sensed her resignation, although the despair remained absolute.

"Is this why you wanted to bond with me, Jack? Because you knew I was crippled?"

He couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. "How could you think that after everything we've shared?"

His anguish hit her like a tidal wave. Immediately remorseful, she tried to make amends. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant-oh damn, I'm sorry, Jack. Please don't be angry." Putting her head against his chest, she closed her eyes, but tears still leaked down her face.

Hating to see her so upset, he quietly held her until she calmed once more. "I don't know about you, but I've cried enough today." Gently, he dried her wet cheeks with his handkerchief.

"Yeah," she agreed, still sniffling. Looking up at him almost shyly, she asked, "Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"I lied to you."

"I know."

He thought of that frozen scene, Ianto crumpled on top of Owen, a strung-out blowfish pointing a gun at the young man's head, more than ready to shoot. Even his ability to die would not have ensured their survival. He just wished there had been some other way.

Dreading the answer, he asked, "Is it permanent?"

"I don't know."

"We're going to have to explain."

"I know."

They sat on the floor of the bathroom for some time without speaking. She was still coming to terms with her injury, and her mind was in turmoil; however, the absolute hopelessness of a few minutes ago was lifting. He would not have to worry that she would simply give up.

"Are you still hungry?"

"Starving," she replied, hugging him fiercely. Leading her out of the bedroom, Jack was somewhat surprised to find that they were alone in the house, although there was a note taped to the door.

_Jack,_

_You owe Tosh. She brought over sushi last night. Your loss. She even stayed the night and helped me talk to Susan and Matthew this morning, which should have been your job. Your couch is shit as a bed by the way, especially for two. Call me as soon as you read this and tell me what the fuck is going on, or I will knock down the door myself and haul both of you to hospital where I can keep an eye on you. And where, I might add, you will unable to engage in your favorite pastime._

_Owen_

Jack smiled fondly as he read the letter, handing it to his wife when he finished. Placing the call, he tried not to laugh when Owen answered, "Jesus H. Christ, Captain, you took your time!"

"Beauty sleep," he responded, looking warmly at Melissa, who managed a smile at his comment.

"Are you going to give me a report, or am I going to have to make good my threat?"

"We're going to lunch," he responded. "All of us. We'll pick up Susan and Matthew on our way. Tell Gwen she can even bring Rhys if he can make it. There's a little cafe on Fifth Street that a friend of mine owns. Meet you there in thirty minutes."

"How is she?" Owen asked cautiously.

"Alive, and that's all that matters to me."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Malcolm had outdone himself again. His chocolate cheesecake tasted every bit as good as one might find in New York. It was so good in fact, that Melissa had eaten two slices, in addition to the onion soup, hamburger, chips, and salad that she had devoured in record time. On the surface, everyone appeared relaxed and enjoying their lunch, but as the last regular customer left the cafe and Jack locked the front door, an apprehensive silence settled over the group.

"Don't look so glum," he lightly admonished as he sat back down. "It's nice to have an off-site every once in a while. Sometimes I forget that food doesn't always come in those little plastic containers."

"How are you, Jack?" Tosh asked nervously, voicing the concern of everyone at the table.

"Fine," he replied breezily, not wanting to dwell on the reason for his absence, or his team's lack of trust.

Owen, however, was not going to let him avoid the issue. "It needs to be discussed, Captain."

"What?" he hotly retorted, forgetting for a moment that the kids were present. "That John Hart kidnapped me on behalf of my insane, psychotic brother so Gray could torture me over four months before deciding to poison me? Or the fact that you all thought I would choose to go with him voluntarily while my wife suffered a seizure in the car park? Which is it, Owen? Because I really want to know."

"Four months, Jack?" Gwen asked in dismay.

"Six, actually." Eyes narrowing, he looked at Susan, who was squeezing Ianto's hand in a futile attempt to keep from crying. Then, for a moment, Ianto's and Jack's eyes locked, and the Welshman conveyed his intentions towards the Captain's daughter quite clearly.

More than a little taken aback, Jack missed Gwen's apology, but he couldn't help but notice how miserable he had made his kids feel. Regretting his outburst, he apologized to the group. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you like that. I just don't understand why you all think I would have run off."

"Mass hysteria?" Ianto suggested dryly. His wisecrack earned him a grin from the Captain, letting everyone relax somewhat.

"How can you be gone for six months? I saw you less than two weeks ago." Rhys was confused, not that most of Torchwood didn't confuse him, but this was more confusing than the odd Weevil attack.

Holding up his wrist strap, Jack answered. "Vortex Manipulator. Standard Time Agency issue; it has teleport and time travel capability. Hart had one as well."

Sitting next to him, Melissa asked in a small, hesitant voice that nevertheless was audible to everyone at the table, "Is six months a long time, Jack?"

Gently holding her hand, he swallowed a lump in his throat before he answered. "Yes." He could feel her confusion, frustration and sorrow bubbling to the surface.

"Dad?" Matthew asked fearfully as everyone stared uncomfortably at his mother.

"It's okay, Matt. We need to talk about this, too. Might as well do it while everyone's here."

"Melissa suffered a mild to moderate stroke," Owen announced, taking the burden of having to tell everyone away from her and Jack. We're still evaluating the deficits, but . . . ." He trailed off, knowing everyone had seen the most obvious effect of whatever had happened to her. He really needed to have a private conversation with her soon.

Embarrassed, the object of everyone's scrutiny studied the empty plate in front of her.

Deeply troubled, Ianto blurted out, "You mean she lost her sense of time because she saved us? How can she? She's-"

"Still in the room," Melissa managed to say loudly enough to stop him mid-sentence. He had most certainly guessed what species she actually was. Idly, she wondered if Rhys and Gwen were the only ones at the table who still thought her human. Surely, Owen had told Tosh at some point.

"Sorry." The archivist was acutely self-conscious of his near slip.

"What do you mean, because she saved you, Ianto? What happened?" Tosh had not been told the details of the encounter with the blowfish on the roof.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Jack searched for something to say, but Owen beat him to it. "Ianto and I were being held hostage by a blowfish high on cocaine. He would have killed us both if she hadn't done some psychic shit that saved us but caused her to have a stroke."

"But I thought she couldn't do that since she killed that agent from Torchwood I?" Gwen was wary that she had been lied to again, but her comment shocked Rhys and the kids, who had no idea what she was talking about.

Seeing that Gwen was on the verge of making an uncomfortable accusation, Melissa quickly defended herself. "I honestly don't know how I did what I did, Gwen. I'm just glad it worked." Which was the truth; her memory of that time was now encased in a fog. Seeing the former constable continue to stare at her suspiciously, she added nervously, "I'm not a threat to any of you, I promise."

"Of course not, Sweetheart," Owen encouraged her gently, once again surprising just about everyone with his kindness.

"You shouldn't have," Ianto announced decisively. "That was too high a price to pay."

"It was mine to pay." Melissa retorted haughtily, eyes flashing. Softening her tone, she continued, "And I would pay it again, Ianto Jones, even knowing the consequences, so don't start wallowing in misplaced guilt-you, either, Owen."

Finishing, she turned to the medic, holding his gaze for a few moments before pasting on a halfway believable smile. "I'm sure it will be an adjustment, but I want to go back to work."

When Jack, Susan, Matthew and Owen all opened their mouths to protest, she quickly added, "Not fieldwork, I realize that. However, I know more about aliens and the Rift than the rest of you put together, including you, Jack. Even if I have to go back to being only a consultant, I still want to help."

"That sounds reasonable," he assured her, knowing she needed some sort of goal to work towards. "Any other questions?"

"One." Rhys surprised everyone by speaking. "What happened to this Hart fellow who has a time travel watch like yours? Will he come back for you?"

"No," Jack answered tersely. Then, understanding that everyone wanted to hear the explanation, he clarified. "Hart's dead. He put together the canisters he had us collect and it turned out to be a bomb triggered to his DNA. Very nasty way to go."

Seeing there were no other questions, Jack tried to fake a semblance of normalcy and grinned. "Reports, people. I want to know what nasty treasures the rift's spit out since I've been gone. And Susan and Matthew, you can explain to the team how they missed the eight Tretals who attend your school. We're talking green skin, guys!"

Chuckling to himself, Jack watched his team squirm as his kids began their tale. Being back in Cardiff, talking with the gang, sorting problems, it all seemed so normal and right. Glancing at Melissa, however, he was forcibly reminded of just how much was wrong. As his thoughts turned poignant, he felt a warm sense of optimism suddenly fill him. Amazed, he recognized that it came from her. If she could be hopeful, then he could as well. Sending her a burst of gratitude, he relaxed, focusing on the day to day strangeness that was Torchwood.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Owen, you know as well as I that a body scan now would be pointless. The damage is already done." Melissa looked at the medic wearily, trying to remain patient. At least he had let her go home with her children before ordering Jack to haul her into the Hub for tests.

"We're going to do what we should have done the first day you started work. A proper scan with the proper equipment so I'll at least have a starting baseline, even if you are impaired at the moment."

Jack had ordered Tosh and Gwen out on a reconnaissance mission to Tinturn Abbey to investigate supposed sightings of strange lights, and Ianto was holed up in the archives, the better to avoid his former lover and father of his current one. More importantly, the Captain was stuck in his office trying to catch up on paperwork. It was the perfect time to do a few tests.

"Fine," she reluctantly agreed.

"Stand still." He snapped out of habit as she started laughing while the scanner ran up her body.

"It tickles," she complained, but held her body motionless for the rest of the test.

Together, they analyzed the results. "That's amazing. Your brain's isn't divided into two hemispheres, it's one seamless organ."

"Easier to use all of it that way," she commented smugly, a smile on her face.

"What's this part then?" Owen asked, pointing to a defined area in the exact middle of her brain. "It looks like there might be some scarring in this area, see?"

Her smile vanished. "That's the temporal lobe. Not quite like your temporal lobe; speech is controlled from this part here, see?" She pointed quickly to a spot in the front of her brain before continuing her explanation. "Our temporal lobe is just that, the area of the brain where we process our sense of time."

"But it's huge," he remarked, looking at the large area on the top; it was a deep blue, in contrast to the light pink of the rest of her brain.

"Time Lord, remember?" There was no hint of humor in her voice, however, just fatigue.

"Does your brain tissue heal?" He watched her grimly stare at the display.

"Yes and no. As we age, our cells renew, even brain cells. However, scar tissue like that is not a product of the aging process, but some sort of trauma; it's not going to simply disappear." Resigned, she began to study the other scans of her body.

"What's that in the middle of your sternum?" Owen asked, fascinated by her physiology.

"It helps maintain proper oxygen levels in the blood if I'm not breathing. It's part of my respiratory bypass system."

"How long can you go without breathing?" he asked in astonishment.

"Not really sure at this point," she answered honestly. "Every time I think of how long anything, my head feels fuzzy. I'm going to have to see if I can relearn some things." She went on to her lymphatic system, grateful that Owen didn't offer his sympathy once again. Pity was one emotion she could not bear.

He remained quiet, simply watching her, until his curiosity got the better of him. "That's the most efficient reproductive system I've ever seen. How the hell did your people deal with overpopulation?"

She laughed, amused by his question. "You're still trying to relate my physiology with a human's, Dr. Harper. The release of an egg is a voluntary process. And yes, it's a very efficient system."

"Placement of the egg here," she pointed at the display, "all but guarantees fertilization. The fertilized egg then travels along here, attaching firmly to the uterine wall. And lest you think that the females had all the power, males could consciously choose to withhold sperm, or not. Pregnancy was a very deliberate condition with my people."

"How did you end up with twins, then?"

Not wanting to explain the chameleon arch or the alternate universe for that matter, she merely smirked. "Jack's just that good."

He rolled his eyes, and then, the physician in him taking over, he asked without thinking. "How long is the gestation period?"

Frowning, she simply raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, right, sorry. We've really got to work on that," he apologized, focusing once again on her immediate problem. "Any ideas on how you might go about regaining your concept of time?"

As Owen shut down the display and saved the information on his computer, she answered, "A few." After discussing theories for over an hour, Melissa's stomach growled. "I'm hungry; can we eat now?"

"I was just coming to get you two," Jack answered for Owen as he walked down the stairs. "It's definitely lunchtime; although with a stomach like yours, who needs a watch?"

"Jack, you're a genius! Owen and I have been going round and round trying to figure out how I can experience time like a Time Lord again, when you humans already have time all figured out. Well, at least figured out in the sense that you measure it, chop it up into tiny little pieces and put names on it. If I can just grasp those basic concepts, I can get by on Earth with a wristwatch and a calendar!" Excited, she raced upstairs.

Still in the autopsy bay, Owen looked at his friend sadly, "The scan revealed scar tissue in her brain; she doesn't think it will heal. How can she stay so positive?"

"I have no idea, Owen; I'm just thankful she does," Jack admitted, his eyes haunted.

Changing the subject as they walked up the stairs, the medic asked, "By the way, how long is a Time Lord's gestation period? We discussed her reproductive system, but she couldn't give me an answer with her head still messed up."

"Why the hell were you discussing that?" Jack demanded, suddenly panicky.

Not noticing the Captain's nervousness, Owen responded, "Academic curiosity. She finally let me do a full body scan. Did you know she has a respiratory bypass?"

"Oh yeah, I know all about that one." Jack grinned lecherously.

"Don't enlighten me, please. I really don't want to know. Just answer the question."

Very reluctantly, he admitted, "I don't know, Owen. I wasn't there for the pregnancy or the twins' birth. I met them when they were fifteen." He hated all reminders that biologically they belonged to another man. It had been such a long time since he had thought of them as anything but his own that the medic's question gave him a sharp pain in his chest.

"Christ, I forgot." Owen studied his friend for a moment. "I guess we all assumed that you were able to stay with her until the twins were born."

"I wish I could have," he said, his voice full of emotion.

"No wonder she's such a strong person."

Shaking himself out of his fantasy, Jack replied briskly, "She is, and a hungry person, too. I bet she's forgotten about lunch while looking for a watch and a calendar. Come on."


	39. A Real Nightmare of a Day

Author's Notes - I have to say that the next two chapters are particularly brutal. I've toned it down, especially the next chapter, but the underlying theme is still there. After watching the Torchwood episode "Adam", I realized that the story could have taken a much nastier turn and decided to incorporate that into this story. If you haven't seen the episode, Adam is some sort of psychic parasite that lives off the emotions of those around him. He's able to manipulate people's memories, and in the episode, Gwen forgot who Rhys was as a side effect of his tampering with her mind. I promise there's a reason for what I did, and if you don't like it, wait a few chapaters (say six or so) and the events of Turn Left should be a bad memory. Having said that, if you think I've crossed a line, please let me know.

* * *

><p>Weeks later, a competent, although severely diminished, Melissa Harkness arrived in London to meet with Rose Tyler. She wore a wristwatch on her right arm at all times now, but still felt mortified when she occasionally forgot how to tell time. Jack had finally given her a digital watch, knowing how much she hated pity of any kind. Relearning the significance of a second, minute, hour, day, month and year was both a triumph and a mockery of everything she had been. She could no longer feel the turning of the earth, see the essence of a daisy, nudge a timeline.<p>

Frankly, she couldn't see the timelines to nudge anymore, and occasionally she wondered if she could be considered a Time Lord at all. In her darkest hours, she believed herself to be nothing more than dusty memories, but she hid that so deeply within herself that no one, not even Jack, ever knew the extent of her doubts.

They were meeting at the Canary Wharf memorial. Rose had requested the location, and she had reluctantly agreed. Waiting in front of the marble waterfall, she read the names of the dead, wondering how many had been killed by Daleks.

"Hey." Rose was subdued, searching for her name and her mum's even as she greeted Melissa.

"You should get some rest between jumps, Rose." Melissa took in the appearance of her friend, and wondered if she had slept at all since discovering the Doctor had died.

"The stars are still going out. I don't know how much time is left," she answered wearily. "'Sides, it's just like the Madame De Pompadour." Grinning, Rose finally looked more like her old self. "I just don't have to worry about clockwork robots this time!"

"Just one cranky woman with a Time Beetle on her back."

"She is that. Got her a present, though. Hope she takes advantage of it." Rose had found her name on the memorial and was tracing the engraving with her finger, a thoughtful look on her face.

"What is it?"

"It's a lottery ticket. Got the idea from the Doctor, actually. That's how he traded places with that physics teacher. Slipped a winning lottery ticket under his door." She looked apprehensively at her friend. "For Christmas."

"The Titanic. Do you know for sure it's going to crash, or are you just being prudent, Rose?" She knew she wouldn't like either answer. If nothing else, it proved to her just how much the young woman standing before her had been forced to mature in a very short amount of time.

"No one should know the future," Rose hedged. "Not even someone with a timeline as crazy as yours. Control went spare trying to figure it out."

"You shouldn't have looked. You had no reason to look. Like you said, no one should know the future, especially the future of someone you care about."

"I know that now," she answered somberly, although there was a hint of a smile on her face as she continued. "Looked at Jack's too. Yours and his, they're all tangled together, you know." Brightening, she asked, "Want to get some chips? They're rubbish on Pete's World. Thought I might as well enjoy some while I'm here."

"As long as we can get some fish to go with. Let's find a pub where we can have a talk. Tomorrow, while you're with Donna, Sarah Jane's going to be at Royal Hope Hospital taking care of the Judoon, and I have a meeting with the Brigadier at the Tower. I want to hear all about how the time machine's progressing before we have to part."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Standing on Tower Bridge well after dark, Melissa stared at the still drained Thames, wondering if the day could get any worse. Finding out that everyone inside Royal Hope had died of oxygen deprivation had been almost unbearable. Sarah Jane had been so confident, and now she was dead, along with her son, his friends and a thousand others. Upon hearing the news, the Brigadier had looked as old as his eighty odd years, and she wondered how much longer he could endure the hardships of command before his body simply wore out.

She saw a flash of light and slowly turned around to face Rose. "Did you know?"

"Yeah," she answered dejectedly, mascara streaks smudging her face. "Looked at Sarah Jane's timeline after you told me what she was planning to do."

"She had a son, Luke. He died today, too."

"I know," she responded quietly. "We just gotta have faith, yeah? Donna's going to change everything back, and then none of this will have happened."

"But you'll remember, Rose. You'll always remember." Melissa searched the young woman's face, looking for traces of the Bad Wolf, but all she saw was a human facing choices that would have broken others. It made her proud.

"I'm going to remember so I can tell the Doctor how brilliant you all were. You and Jack and Sarah Jane and the Brigadier and Torchwood and UNIT and Donna. And once the Doctor's back and saved everybody again, I'm going to find each of you and tell you, too." She gave Melissa a quick hug. "You just promise to be careful. I'll see you next month." With a cheeky smile she added, "Tell Jack to pamper you."

Returning the hug, she laughed. "I will Rose, although I can take care of myself. Follow your own advice and get some rest." Looking at her watch she noted that it was nearly ten. If she left now, she could spend a few hours with Jack alone in the Hub, rather than spending a sleepless night at UNIT headquarters. Needing his comfort after such a horrible day, she ran to retrieve her car to make the long trip home.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Hub was dark and quiet when she entered, so she took the time to study the Rift monitor before searching for her husband. No major spikes besides the one that had occurred minutes before she had left for London. It must have kept them busy; Jack hadn't called her once on her trip, not even for a little phone sex. Looking forward to his special brand of welcome home, she began to call out his name, but there was no response. Wondering if he might have gone to the house to spend the night with Susan and Matthew, she decided to check the bunker before she left, just in case.

Walking past the stairs to the autopsy bay, she felt the weight of the Webley as it pressed against her skull. "I don't know who the hell you are, but you had better put your hands in the air, now."

"I'm tired and it's been a real nightmare of a day, Jack. What the hell are you doing?" She was starting to feel uneasy and nervous. She couldn't feel any hint of her husband's emotions, and his eyes were cold. Was he angry that Sarah Jane had gone in her place?

"I said get your hands up," he commanded harshly.

"Jack?" Scared now, she asked, "Are you okay? What's the matter with you?"

"Don't," he warned. "I don't know what game you're playing, but you better get your hands in the air."

Slowly, she put her hands up. "Don't you recognize me, Jack?" She couldn't mask the shaking in her voice.

"I don't know you," he declared flatly.

Panicking, she moved closer and grabbed his arm, trying to mentally connect with him. He slammed her to the ground as he shoved her out of his mind. She fell, hard, against the metal railing outside the medical bay, hitting the right side of her head with enough force to stun her for several minutes.

By the time she finally understood what was happening, he had dragged her to the cells. The three Weevils currently residing in the block began to howl wildly as soon as she entered, throwing themselves against the Plexiglas doors in a futile attempt to reach her. After looking curiously at the Weevils, he threw her into an unoccupied cell, where she huddled in the corner, trying vainly to ignore the pounding in her head and the wails of the creatures who wished her dead.

"Don't try that again, or next time I will kill you," he promised as he walked away.

She drifted in and out of awareness for a while, battling dizziness, nausea, blurred vision and a headache that threatened to overcome her. Finally, she managed to focus enough to pull the sonic screwdriver out of her coat pocket. Changing the setting, she quickly opened the door and staggered to the hallway while the Weevils howled in frustration.

Determined to find some help, she crawled up the stairs to the workstations. Pulling herself into Gwen's chair, she rang Owen.

"Hello?" The doctor sleepily answered on the seventh ring.

"Owen. Help me."

"Calm down, Sweetheart." He soothed as he looked blearily at the clock. "What's wrong?"

As she fought a new wave of dizziness, her sentences became disjointed and difficult to understand. "He doesn't know me, Owen. Pulled gun. Need here soon. Don't know . . . what. He needs. Help."

He listened to her with growing alarm as a horrible suspicion formed. "Jack? You're talking about Jack? Did he hurt you, Melissa?"

There was a long silence, punctuated only by the sound of her breathing. Owen waited for her answer as he rushed to dress. Finally, she spoke, pain evident in her voice. "My fault. Thought I could. Didn't understand. Gun, confused." She trailed off, unwilling to tell Owen how much Jack had hurt her.

Apprehensively, he asked her, "Did he shoot you?"

"No," she immediately replied. Gathering her strength, she forced herself to sound more coherent. "Okay, Owen; little bump on the head. Jack that needs help. I don't know what's wrong." Not knowing what had caused her husband's strange behavior, she added fervently. "Call kids. Compromised, maybe. Follow procedures."

"Yes ma'am," he answered meekly, wondering what had happened and how badly she had been injured to sound that disjointed. "I'm already in the car; I'll call them and then call everyone else. We'll find out what's going on; don't you worry."

Before he ended the call, he added earnestly, "Find someplace safe to hide until I can get there, okay?" When there was no reply, he continued, "Melissa? Can you still hear me?" But the phone was already dead.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack regarded the woman slouched in Gwen's chair speculatively. She wasn't acting like a typical Torchwood invader. She hadn't tried to steal anything or kill him, for that matter. Also, she had somehow escaped the cells only to make a phone call to Owen Harper. Granted, she had attempted to enter his mind, but he had repelled that all too easily. As far as threats went, she seemed quite a mild one.

Curious, he decided to confront her. "Didn't find the cell to your liking?"

Dazed, Melissa looked dumbly up at him. It took her several moments to understand his question. Eventually, she pulled herself together enough to answer. "Noisy neighbors." Afraid that he would hurt her again and feel guilty once he remembered, she slipped her left hand into her coat pocket to reach the sonic screwdriver.

"Hands where I can see them," he commanded sharply. Slowly, she pulled her left hand out of her pocket and placed both empty hands on top of Gwen's desk.

Trying very hard not to be sick, she sat slumped in the chair. Jack watched her for several minutes while he attempted to decide how good of an actress she was. Just as he had decided to interrogate her, Owen entered the Hub.

Running to Melissa, the doctor took out his first aid kit. "Are you okay?" When she didn't immediately answer, he anxiously asked Jack, "What happened?"

"So you do know her." Jack barked, intimidating his medic. "Who the hell is she?"

"She's your wife, Jack." Owen answered quietly, thoroughly confused. In the back of his mind, he imagined himself yelling at the Captain for being such a complete idiot, but that was so far out of his character that he dismissed it completely. What had happened to make someone like Jack Harkness forget his own wife?

Silently, Jack watched Owen tend to the intruder. She seemed to be genuinely out of it; perhaps she was no actress at all. Although that didn't explain who she was, because there was no fucking way that she was his wife. Grudgingly, he admitted, "She hit the side of her head while I was subduing her."

Owen merely nodded, not surprised by his explanation. There was an ugly purple bruise on her right temple.

Watching Owen tend to the strange woman, the Captain began to feel the tiniest bit of remorse over her injuries, not that he hadn't been without cause. She should feel lucky he hadn't shot her; no one invaded his mind and got away with it. Still, he wished she hadn't hit the railing while going down. Bewildered by his conflicting emotions, he was immensely relieved to see Ianto walk into the Hub, until the Welshman took one look at the teary-eyed woman and rushed over to her.

"What happened to you, ma'am?"

"You know her too?" Jack suddenly had a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Ianto turned to face Jack, a look of astonishment on his face. "You don't?"

"Never seen her before," he responded tersely.

Gwen gasped, having entered unnoticed behind them. "She's your wife, Jack. How can you say you've never seen her?"

"Because I haven't," he avowed loudly, although the uneasy feeling in his gut was getting stronger. Owen held an ice pack to the redhead's face, and she started crying when she heard his reply to Gwen. "Can't someone shut her up?" he shouted, annoyed and upset, which unfortunately only resulted in more crying, and Ianto shooting daggers at him. If looks could kill . . . .

"Did Melissa hurt herself again?" Tosh asked impatiently as she and Adam entered the Hub. Jack's wife was constantly getting into trouble, and although she understood how fragile the woman was, she didn't see why it necessitated them being dragged into the Hub in the middle of the night, especially when she and Adam had been enjoying some really fantastic sex.

Something in the tone of Tosh's voice cut through Melissa's haze, and she looked up long enough to notice the man standing next to Torchwood's technical expert. Baffled, she looked to Owen and back to Tosh.

"Who's he?" she finally questioned, her voice so tremulous that Owen could barely hear the question.

"That's Adam." Looking up, Owen was deeply disturbed that she, too, seemed to be suffering from some sort of amnesia.

"Who?" she repeated, sniffling.

Before Owen could answer, Adam was bounding towards them, full of good humor. "You're always such a kidder, Melissa. I've been here longer than you, remember?" As he spoke, he gave her a friendly pat on the back.

"You all recognize her?" Jack asked, suspicion giving way to confusion. "What's happening? Why don't I?"

Owen was about to timidly suggest running a few tests on the both of them when Melissa pushed herself out of the chair and away from Adam, staggering into Gwen's desk. She tried to speak, but no words came out of her mouth. Eyes wide, she sank to the floor.

"No, no, no, not again!" Owen cried as he ran to get his small medical scanner.

"What? What's going on?" Jack demanded, unsure of everything at that instant.

No one answered him in the chaos of the moment, although he heard Gwen shout. "Is she having another stroke, Owen?"

It was all so surreal; if this was his wife, he should feel something, shouldn't he? He watched with a frightening detachment as the team scurried to help Owen. Ianto was at the woman's side, trying to get a response from her, but whether she was unconscious or in shock was unclear. Gwen was bringing blankets and a pillow, and Tosh brought the portable oxygen, although the doctor pushed that aside. She was still breathing, then, he noted passively.

Quietly, Adam put a sympathetic arm around the Captain's shoulder. "It must be confusing for you, Jack, but that is your wife on the floor. You were caught in that explosion yesterday, remember? It must have affected you more than Dr. Harper thought. I'm sure it will all come back eventually. I know how bad that headache of yours must be; why don't you have a lie down?"

"Yeah," Jack decided, the sudden pain in his head almost unbearable. How could he have forgotten the explosion? Gwen had picked up a live shell from World War I that the rift had spat out next to a school. Grabbing it out of her hands, he had thrown it as far as he could, but the shell had exploded in the air, and his head had impacted on the concrete quite forcibly. He must have one hell of a concussion; no wonder he was a so confused.

Turning around, he slowly made his way back to the bunker, hoping he could manage the ladder. When Ianto noticed his retreat, he ran to follow him. He was going to find out what was wrong one way or another. On his way, Adam grabbed his wrist.

"Make sure he stays awake, that concussion of his must be much worse than Owen thought."

"Of course," Ianto quickly agreed, wondering for a moment how he could have forgotten Jack's injuries.

Smiling to himself, Adam approached the remaining group, the better to give them reassuring pats on the back. By the time he was finished, they were all as worried about the Captain's head injury as they were his wife's collapse.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"How are you feeling?" Owen asked kindly as he watched Melissa finally open her eyes. Knowing how frightening it could be to wake up in the autopsy bay, he had been sitting beside her for several hours. Gwen and Ianto were taking turns sitting in the bunker with Jack, ensuring he didn't sink into a coma. How could he have missed the severity of his friend's head trauma?

"Jack?" She knew exactly what was wrong, and wanted to run to him and make him understand the danger, but the creature's psychic attack had left her too weak. She doubted that she could manage to stand, let alone track him down.

"He's going to be okay," the doctor promised. "Ianto and Gwen are with him. I don't know how I missed such a severe concussion. It must have given you quite a scare; I'm so sorry." Smiling hesitantly, he squeezed her hand. "I'm just going to go check on him; you get some rest."

"Go with you," she begged, not knowing if she could withstand the creature's attack a second time.

Owen worried as he watched her struggle to sit. "You're too weak. You need to sleep. That bruise on your head isn't healing."

Adam watched avidly from a discreet distance. When she continued being stubborn, he grasped Owen's arm, suggesting the doctor prepare a sedative. Melissa had just managed to sit all the way up when Owen pressed the hypo spray against her neck. Feeling the drug race through her system, she looked at him in shock. "No," she whispered as she fell back against the autopsy table.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Many hours later, Melissa lethargically opened her eyes, only to stare into the creature's smiling visage. "Get away from me," she hissed as she concentrated on clearing her head. The vestiges of the sedative were making her dizzy, but at least her mouth finally seemed to be obeying her mind.

"Why should I do that?" the alien who called himself Adam asked with a smug smile. "Owen wanted to make sure you wouldn't wake up alone. Isn't that sweet?"

"What have you done to him?" she demanded weakly as she remembered how timid the usually caustic doctor had seemed.

"Nothing harmful." He grinned. "Just gave him a bit of a personality adjustment. His sarcasm was grating on my ears. Besides, Tosh is hot, and I didn't want a rival."

"You need to leave," she stated with an authority she didn't feel. "You have no right to change their memories or their personalities. You're nothing more than a thief."

He chuckled, sensing how weak she was. "Thief is such a harsh word, don't you think? I'm merely sharing their lives, not taking them. It's how I survive." Purposefully, he called Tosh over to them. With one touch of his hand, she began to rummage around Owen's medical kit.

Leaning next to Melissa, he whispered, "But you don't want to play nice, do you?"

She tensed as the computer specialist raised her shirt. "Tosh, you're making a mistake. Whatever you're thinking; you've got it wrong."

Toshiko smiled at Adam as if she hadn't heard her. "Hoix need a triple dose of sedative in order for it to be effective. Want to do the honors?"

"Next time," he promised with a gleam in his eye.

Viciously, she jabbed the hypodermic into Melissa's stomach and held her down as she struggled feebly against the overdose of medication that coursed through her system. For several seconds, the Time Lord's mind was completely defenseless, which was more than enough time for Adam.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Jack?" Melissa called groggily, trying to remember what was wrong. It was extremely difficult to focus.

"He's going to be fine, Melissa," Owen reassured her gently. "He's just a little confused right now. How are you feeling?"

"Tired." Suddenly panicky, she exclaimed, "He doesn't know me Owen!"

"It's okay." He awkwardly patted her arm. "Jack's got a severe concussion from a World War I shell that came through the Rift and exploded. I'm sure he'll be better in a day or two."

"I can't feel him," she whimpered, a severe bout of dizziness making the room spin.

"You had another stroke. You were very confused, and then you collapsed. I'm sorry."

"No," she protested, tears coming to her eyes. She couldn't lose the one connection that kept her sane on her worst days. Terrified, she rolled off the table, falling to her knees in her attempt to reach Jack. She had to know he was okay.

Hearing the commotion, Tosh and Adam raced down the stairs to give the doctor a hand. "Come on, Red, back to bed with you," Adam told her with a sly smile as Tosh held her upright."

"No, Adam, I need to see Jack." Melissa replied crossly as she attempted unsuccessfully to stand on her own.

"Well, at least you know who I am this time." He smirked, rolling his eyes at Gwen, who was watching the scene impatiently.

"Why can't you do what you're supposed to for once?" the former constable remarked scathingly. "You've been nothing but a burden since you came to Cardiff. The least you could do is behave long enough for Owen to make sure Jack's going to recover, or isn't that enough drama for you?"

Remorseful, Melissa sagged against Tosh. They had all been so nice to her and Gwen was right, she had been nothing but a burden. She was a stupid, worthless idiot.

"It's okay, Gwen. She isn't trying to be difficult. She just needs some time to recover." Owen hesitantly defended his patient.

Playing peacemaker, Adam offered, "Why don't we take her to the couch. She can rest there, and Tosh and I can keep an eye on her.

"Thanks," Owen replied gratefully. "I really do need to check on Jack."

Helping her up the stairs, Tosh even gave her time to clean herself up before handing her a glass of water. "Thanks so much. I really appreciate it." Extremely thirsty, she gulped it quickly, hardly noticing the bitter aftertaste.

As her tongue began to feel thick and her ears began to ring, she looked at the two quizzically. "Doctor's orders," Adam cheerfully informed her as she stumbled to the sofa.

Much later, she became aware of the sounds of familiar voices, although she couldn't summon the energy to open her eyes.

"You should be resting, Captain." Owen gently chided his boss.

"How is she?" he asked, ignoring the physician's advice.

Dejectedly, he answered, "She had a stroke."

"Another one?"

Hopeful, Owen looked away from Melissa to study his other patient. "You remember?"

He quickly refuted the doctor's assumption. "No. I heard Gwen asking the question when she collapsed." Staring at the unfamiliar woman lying on the sofa, he continued in frustration. "Take care of her Owen, and give me progress reports, but keep me out of it. After I hurt her, I'm sure she doesn't want to see me."

"If you're sure," Owen answered uncertainly. There was a tiny part of his mind that wanted to kick Captain Jack Harkness in the ass and ask him if he was out of his fucking mind. That reaction scared him, so he promptly ignored it.

Rubbing his head, Jack complained, "Damn this headache, I need some coffee." He left briskly to search for Ianto.

Melissa drifted back to sleep, disconsolate.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Waking up with a crick in her neck, Melissa stood cautiously, halfway expecting the room to lurch as it had previously. Thankfully, she suffered very little dizziness. Her watch was missing from her wrist, so she had no idea what time it was, although judging by her stomach, it was well past the time to eat.

Wandering around the Hub, she finally found them all in the spacious boardroom on the second sublevel. They must be in the middle of the daily briefing, which meant it was mid morning, although of what day she had no idea. Jack looked content, and that relieved her immensely; she hadn't quite trusted Owen when he told her that he was going to recover. Except, his face became a mask when he noticed her, and all conversation ceased. Abruptly, she remembered that he didn't know who she was and didn't seem to want to. Suddenly self-conscious, she began to twist the ends of her shirt.

"Glad to see your feeling better," Owen kindly called out to her. His sentiment was echoed by Ianto, Adam, and a beat later, Gwen. Tosh smiled at her amusedly, while Jack continued to stare at her impassively, his feelings of guilt deeply masked.

"We're in the middle of a briefing," he finally told her, as if it weren't obvious.

"I'm sorry; I woke up and didn't know where anyone was." She trailed off nervously, knowing that she was being a burden as usual. "I can just go back to the workstations and wait there."

"That's silly," Gwen protested unexpectedly. "If Jack can be declared fit for duty than you can too."

"You remember?" she asked her husband excitedly.

"No." He glanced significantly at Owen, who looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"Right. Why don't I take you back upstairs, Melissa? I bet you're hungry."

"How about I go along and help out?" Adam graciously added. "You're still looking very pale. Are you dizzy?"

Melissa looked at him curiously. There was something about the man that sent shivers down her spine, but she couldn't decide what it was. "A little," she admitted, embarrassed to be the object of everyone's scrutiny.

Owen helped her up the stairs. Under the influence of Adam, he pulled her so quickly that she stumbled and tripped several times on the way to the break room. Her nose was bloody after one particularly nasty fall, and the doctor carefully cleaned her face as he sadly noted her lack of motor coordination.

Finally sitting calmly at the tiny table in the equally tiny kitchen, Melissa made a face as she swallowed the grapefruit juice set in front of her. "Can't I just have coffee, Owen? This stuff is nasty. Who's been drinking it, anyway?"

"Gwen. She's on a fad diet kick trying to lose some weight before she goes dress shopping. I've tried to tell her they don't work long-term, but when has Gwen ever listened to me?" As he spoke, Owen rummaged through the refrigerator looking for food that hadn't long since spoiled.

"You know Ianto won't let anyone touch that coffeemaker of his," Adam added good-naturedly. "Maybe once the briefing's over. Speaking of which, I better head back. Jack's been asking for the spectral analysis of the artifact we found outside that construction site. Wouldn't do to keep the boss waiting."

"Thanks, Adam," she said, strangely grateful that he was leaving.

As Owen placed a plate of reheated spaghetti in front of her, he apologized. "Not the best breakfast, but at least it won't give you food poisoning. Really, I don't understand why people keep leftovers in here until they resemble science experiments."

Reluctantly finishing the juice, Melissa regarded the spaghetti queasily. "I can't manage that right now, but thank you, Owen. I'm not hungry anymore."

"Feeling alright?"

"Perfect." she lied as she desperately hid the waves of dizziness that were washing over her. "I'm going to the archives to do some more cataloguing. I'm up to the 1940's now, you know."

"If you're sure," he responded uneasily. She didn't look perfect, but maybe she'd feel better getting back into a routine.

Allowing Owen to leave first, Melissa managed to make her way to the secure archives without passing out. Blearily, she opened her laptop and started to input the descriptions of the items on the table in front of her.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Ma'am?"

Startled, Melissa jerked her head up from the table. "Ianto?"

"Are you okay?" Troubled, Ianto studied Jack's wife. She was staring at him blankly, a dazed expression on her face. He worried that she could suffer another stroke alone in the archives and no one would be the wiser.

"Perfect," she finally answered as she took a few deep breaths to clear her head. "I must have fallen asleep while cataloguing."

Concerned, he peered over her shoulder to stare at the computer screen. "Let me go get Owen. I think he should take a look at you."

"I'm fine," she protested until she saw the gibberish that filled her monitor. "Please don't, Ianto," she begged. "I don't want to be more of a burden. I know how much of an inconvenience I am to everyone."

"You're hardly a burden," he countered, wondering where she could have gotten such an idea.

"I just fell asleep typing; please, Ianto." Hastily, she deleted the last five entries. "Maybe I just need some coffee?"

"Sure," he finally agreed, deciding he would tell Owen later.

As she sipped her coffee, Melissa felt the pounding in her head lessen to controllable levels. Attempting to put Ianto at ease, she tried to make conversation. "I'm sorry I sent Susan away. You were going to that concert tomorrow, weren't you?"

Ianto schooled his features into a neutral mask. "When did you send Susan away?"

"I had Owen tell Susan and Matthew that Torchwood was compromised. They're somewhere safe. I didn't know that Jack had been injured. I thought he might be under someone's influence."

"I see," he answered neutrally, gravely concerned.

Melissa and Jack's children had been killed in the Hub before Abaddon had been released and hadn't reappeared as Melissa had once the Rift was opened. Her recent stroke must have affected her mind. He needed to tell Owen at once. "I've got to make the coffee rounds. Will you excuse me?"

"Sure, if you promise to bring me back another one." Feeling increasingly fatigued, she nevertheless began to reenter data into her computer.

Briskly, Ianto searched out Owen, finding him in the hothouse. "Melissa said she told Susan and Matthew to leave town yesterday," he informed the physician solemnly.

"Technically, I told them to leave," the medic answered distractedly as he carefully picked a seed pod off the large, blue, cactus-like plant in the back of the hothouse.

"You spoke to them?"

Misinterpreting Ianto's skepticism, he reassured the man, "Susan wasn't happy to go without telling you goodbye, if that's what you want to know. They'll be back in a week, and hopefully Jack will remember everything by then. I'm very concerned about him."

Preoccupied, Ianto merely nodded. Something was extremely wrong, and he needed to find out what it was before attempting to alert the others. Jack didn't remember Melissa; Melissa hadn't recognized Adam until after her stroke, and up until a minute ago, he had been certain that the Harkness children were dead. He needed to find his diary to see if he could sort out the truth.

Rapidly reading his diary, Ianto doubted his sanity enough to spend quite a while rereading it. Not only were Jack and Melissa's children alive, he was in a relationship with Susan, if his own writing could be believed. Owen and Tosh were dating, and Rhys knew all about Torchwood. Stranger still, there was no record of Adam at all. Perhaps Melissa had been more correct than she had thought; Torchwood had been compromised. It was the only explanation that made sense.

A loud crash broke his concentration, and he looked up from his desk in the archives to see Melissa sprawled on the ground next her own desk, slivers of a broken coffee cup sprinkled around her. Rushing to her side, he noted that she was barely breathing and hastily called Owen.

"Owen, what you are doing right now?" He asked as nonchalantly as he could. He did not want to alert Adam to his new knowledge.

"I'm watching Toshiko run some computer simulations," the doctor admitted shyly.

Stifling a retort about Owen's pathetic crush, Ianto spoke nonchalantly. "I dropped a coffee cup and cut my hand picking up the pieces. Think you can come and take a look?"

"I'll bring my bag. Be there in a minute."

Relieved, Ianto began to carefully pick up the pieces of glass, a horrible suspicion forming in his mind.

Walking into the archives, Owen stopped when he saw Melissa. "Ianto! How long has she been like this?" Frantic, he began a quick examination, noting that her pulse was dangerously weak.

"Since I called you," he admitted, still picking up glass shards.

Gently turning her over, Owen noted the fresh black bruise on her left cheek. "I'll have to get her to hospital. She must have had another stroke. I can't do any more for her in the Hub."

Decisively, Ianto stated, "I don't think this is a stroke."

"Then what the hell is it?" Owen shocked himself by the use of such strong language.

"I think she's been drugged," the Welshman said flatly.

Bewildered, Owen demanded, "Who would do something like that?"

"Just test her first, then we'll talk about who." He angrily pitched the last of the glass into the waste bin.

Pulling out the medical scanner, Owen pricked Melissa's finger, squeezing a few drops of blood onto the sensor pad. "Shit," he exclaimed, sounding more and more like his old self. "She's got a lethal level of sedatives in her bloodstream."

"Can you counteract it?" Ianto asked sharply.

"I, well," the doctor hedged, "she's got a medical condition that would make that difficult."

Exasperated, Ianto corrected him. "You mean she's a Time Lord. Is the dose only lethal for a human, or is it enough to cause a regeneration?"

Flabbergasted that the archivist knew her secret, Owen stared intently at Ianto for several seconds before answering. "If she were human, she'd be dead already. Since she's not, I'm guessing that she'll be okay, but it's just a guess. She's sensitive to so many drugs that I don't usually give her any. Now, tell me who did this to her, so I can kill them."

"Adam."

"Adam? Why would you think Adam had anything to do with this? Are you sure UNIT wasn't involved?" Nothing Ianto was saying made sense; Adam was a trusted member of the team. Yet, someone had wanted Melissa dead, that much was certain.

"Listen to me, Owen," he said urgently, desperate to make the doctor understand. "Melissa didn't know who Adam was when she first saw him. Then, he touches her and she collapses. I don't remember fixing coffee for her, but she's had two cups. I thought her kids were dead until talking to you, so I read my diary. You, Tosh, Gwen, Jack, Melissa, Susan, Matthew, even Rhys Williams, you're all mentioned, over and over and over again, but Adam isn't mentioned once. I think he's gotten into our minds somehow. I don't think he's a part of Torchwood.

Dismayed, Owen made some realizations of his own. "She complained about the taste of the grapefruit juice she drank, and Adam was there the entire time. Shit, I left him alone with her when I went and checked on Jack. Every time she stumbled, I blamed it on her stroke, but he had plenty of opportunities to slip her several doses of sedatives."

"Think about it," Ianto urged. "When would you ever clear someone for duty, even the immortal Jack Harkness, after a serious concussion resulting in partial amnesia? Yet, not one of us questioned it. In fact, I didn't even remember he had been injured until Adam told me. He must be controlling our thoughts."

"How are we supposed to fight something like that?" Owen demanded.

"I think our best weapon is lying unconscious on the floor. Find a way to help her, and maybe we can get rid of Adam."


	40. Torchwood's Toys

Author's Notes - Thanks to LadyoftheDrow, padmay97 and dwatlaskrhtcm for the reviews.

* * *

><p>Owen resorted to injecting Melissa with a stimulant in the hopes of conteracting the effects of the overdose. She had no reaction for several minutes, and then her eyes snapped open. "Are you trying to kill me?" she asked weakly as she struggled to control the pounding of her hearts.<p>

"Save you, actually," Ianto assured her as he helped her sit against the wall.

"I've been drugged," she remarked in shock, tasting the bitterness on her tongue. "Do you have any ginger?" Her request surprised both men.

"No," Owen replied, puzzled.

Leaning her head back against the wall, she shut her eyes and tried to think. "I need protein," she finally decided. "It won't purge the drug from my system, but it will temporarily overcome the effects." As she spoke, her words became long and drawn out, and her head began to sag to one side.

As Ianto raided his desk drawer for some energy bars, Owen slapped her lightly on her bruised cheek. Reluctantly, she focused on him. "That hurt, you know."

"Eat this," he commanded, peeling the wrapper off the four energy bars that Ianto had handed to him.

Chewing as if the bars were made of cardboard, she forced herself to swallow bite after bite. Finished, she took a deep breath. "Better. Now, are you going to tell me who's trying to kill me?"

The explanation took several minutes, but by the time they were finished, Melissa was furious and ready to confront Adam immediately. "He must do it by touch," she raged, deciding that the creature was going to die a slow death for what he had done. "Don't let him touch you, and he can't alter your memories any more than he already has."

"How does that get rid of him?" Owen hesitantly questioned.

"It doesn't," she admitted. "I'm going to give him a choice, and when he doesn't take it, I'm going to enjoy killing him." As Ianto helped her stand, she outlined her plan to Owen. "I need you to prepare five doses of retcon, strong enough to erase all memories of Adam. Once we forget him, he should cease to resist. Just don't let him within touching distance, or he'll know what we're planning."

Nervous, Owen went to do as she had said, but turned around after realizing something. "How long's Adam been here?"

Leaning heavily against the desk, she thought furiously. "He wasn't here when I left for London, or I would have recognized him when I came back. Damn, how did he get in my head? I should have been able to repel him."

"You mean besides the drugs and likely concussion?" Ianto asked dryly.

Tentatively, she felt around her head, wincing as she touched the bruise and painful lump near her right temple. "Well, that complicates things." Ruefully, she addressed the doctor, "Owen, you're going to have to prepare six doses of retcon."

"You can't take retcon! You don't even know what it will do to you."

"I know what will happen if I don't," she shot back, not willing to give an inch.

"Why don't we ask Jack when he and Gwen come back from their Weevil hunt?" Still under the influence of Adam's personality adjustment, he voiced his concerns hesitantly.

Her eyes flashed dangerously at the mention of her husband. "Jack doesn't even know who I am, and that thing posing as a human somehow has managed to convince me that I can't sense him, either. I can't live like that, and I'm more than willing to take my chances with the retcon. Do you understand me, Owen?"

Abashed, the doctor finally quit arguing. "Doesn't mean I have to like it." Not giving her a chance to respond, he walked out of the archives.

Turning to Ianto, she smiled dangerously. "Want to go offer a snake a choice between a rock and a hard place?"

"When you put it that way, how could I refuse?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They found Adam with Tosh in the hothouse. It was apparent that they had interrupted an afternoon tryst; Tosh's hair was wild and her clothes buttoned improperly. Adam regarded them warily.

Smiling, he attempted to hug Melissa. "You're looking awful. Maybe you'd like Ianto to get you some more coffee?"

His hand made it within inches of her arm, but he found he could not touch her. Frowning, he unsuccessfully tried to extend his reach to Ianto, who was standing slightly behind her and to the side.

"Sorry," she apologized insincerely. "I just thought you could keep your hands to yourself right now. Amazing how powerful thoughts can be, don't you think?" Her grin was feral as she stared at the entity that had caused her so much pain.

Tosh looked between the two of them in confusion. "What are you playing at this time, Melissa? Adam's been nothing but nice to you."

"She's confused." The alien reassured his lover, gently squeezing Tosh's hand. "Maybe Ianto should take her back to rest before she really gets hurt."

"That sounds like a threat," the archivist noted.

Before Adam could respond, Melissa warned, "You've got a choice, Adam. You can leave voluntarily. I understand Wales has some very lovely sheep. Perhaps you'd like to share with them. Or, you can refuse, and then you'll be leaving permanently."

"Now it sounds like you're threatening me." Under his guidance, Tosh pulled an atomizer full of glowing liquid out of her pocket and quickly sprayed it into Melissa's face. Dazed, she staggered backwards.

"I've been finding uses for Torchwood's toys," Adam explained as he watched her squeeze her eyes shut. "The shy Dr. Harper was supposed to have thrown this one out, but he kept it. I find it quite useful, especially when Toshiko calls out his name during sex. It keeps her, shall we say, enthusiastic. I'm sure it will do the same to you."

Hands clenched into fists, Melissa barked at Ianto. "Find Jack and Gwen and bring them back, now." When he hesitated, she yelled. "Run, damn it!"

Exercising extreme control, she looked disdainfully at Adam. "If you think some cheap perfume is going to get me to change my mind, you're seriously mistaken. Now which is it? Sheep? Or dissipation?"

"You forget, Red, that I exist in the mind. I may not be able to see inside all those deliciously locked doors, but I can feel you, and you feel very . . . warm, don't you?"

He moved to touch her, but she had enough control to block that with a thought, although the longer she stood in the hothouse, the more difficult it became to concentrate. She felt rooted to the spot, and the temperature did seem to be increasing.

Licking his lips provocatively, Adam had Tosh slowly unbutton her shirt as Melissa watched, spellbound. Adam whispered something into Toshiko's ear, and with a frustrated sigh, she interrupted her pleasure to once again spray the glowing alien pheromones in Melissa's face, twice in rapid succession.

Completely stunned, her cheeks flushed as the drugs began to overwhelm her. Paying her no attention, Tosh slowly raised her arm to spray the scent on her own face. The computer expert began to moan, pulling herself against Adam's chest. He looked down at her in predatory anticipation. "I think we're going to have company, love."

As the sheer magnitude of the exotic chemicals pushed her own hormones into overdrive, Melissa somehow managed to turn around and run blindly down the stairs, Adam's sardonic laughter haunting her the entire way. Fortunately, he was unable to follow her while Tosh's thoughts anchored him to the hothouse.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Running into the medical bay, Melissa pushed Owen roughly up against the wall and began to press herself into him. "Hey!" Owen protested, "What do you think you're doing?"

She pleaded breathlessly, "Help me. I don't want to do this. There must be some way to turn this stuff off."

"What stuff?" he asked with a squeak as she moved her hands downwards.

Kissing him, she murmured. "That stupid, aahh, amazing, sex spray you were supposed to have dumped a long time ago. Did okay with one dose, but, oooh, three. . ." Impatient, she began to unbutton his pants.

Feeling what little self-discipline remained staring to slip, she warned piteously. "I can't do this. Please, Owen, think of something."

Panicked, he desperately tried to think of an antidote. "It's just takes time, Melissa. There isn't a cure." Frantic as she returned her attentions to him, Owen offered, "If you can make it to the bunker, I can keep you isolated."

With a shuddering breath, Melissa wrenched herself away from him. Somehow, she was able to control her all consuming need as he marched her towards Jack's bedroom. After a few embarrassing moments on the ladder, Owen managed to get her in the bunker. Not knowing how much she could even understand anymore, he explained rapidly.

"You'll be safe down here. Just put your hands against the ladder and I'll make sure you can't get away."

Struggling to obey, she placed her hands over her head, allowing Owen to bind her wrists with plastic restraints. Satisfied that she couldn't get loose, the medic cursed himself for forgetting that he had to use the ladder to leave By the time he started climbing, however, she was far too engrossed in her own stimulation to even notice. Apprehensively, he closed the hatch to Jack's bedroom and returned to the medical bay to finish preparing the retcon.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You can't give retcon to someone who has those pheromones active in her system!" Jack exploded at the doctor as he was quickly briefed on the proposed solution to the Adam problem. "She'll have a heart attack!"

"Shit! You think I don't know that, Captain!" Owen ranted right back, more and more like his old self the longer he was not under the direct influence of the alien.

"No, I just think you're a fucking idiot for keeping that sex spray around, Dr. Harper! You were supposed to have disposed of that months ago." Angry, Jack picked up a scalpel and flung it across the room, causing Gwen to flinch.

"How long does it last?" Ianto asked as the other two men glared at each other.

"A little over an hour," Jack immediately responded.

"What?" he asked when Gwen gave him a withering look. "Since that stuff affects just about every sentient species, it was used by the Time Agency, although not by me. I prefer my sex to be consensual."

"We may have a little problem with that, actually."

"What do you mean, a little problem?" Gwen asked suspiciously before anyone else could comment.

"She told me she had three doses." Owen dropped his gaze, unwilling to meet anyone's eyes.

"Three! How the hell was she able to stop?"

When the doctor did not immediately answer, Ianto asked, "How long do you think Tosh is going to keep Adam occupied? When she's finished, the alien's going to turn his attention back to Melissa and to us.

Thinking rapidly, Jack found a possible solution. "Here's what we're going to do. Ianto, you told me she was able to prevent Adam from touching her just by thinking about it?" When the archivist nodded, he continued, "Then, we're all going to think about Adam being locked in the cells. Got that?" The group nodded, and then concentrated. They knew they had been successful when Tosh let out a shriek in the hothouse, finding herself suddenly alone.

Running up the stairs, Jack gently restrained her as she screamed. "Where's Adam? What happened to him?"

Ignoring Toshiko, who was naked and struggling against him, Jack growled, "Anytime now, Owen."

"Right." Trying not to stare at Tosh's body, Owen nervously pricked her finger, wiping her blood on the sensor pad of the scanner. "Traces of alien pheromones, but nothing active at the moment."

Tosh stared at him in fright. "Pheromones? What's been done to me?"

Feeling extremely guilty for his part in the debacle, Owen gently cupped her cheek. "Nothing that can't be fixed. I'm so sorry, Tosh. You need to take this." He handed her a retcon pill and a glass of water. Trembling, she took it from his hand and swallowed, gulping it down with the water.

Pressing a chaste kiss to Toshiko's forehead, Jack requested, "Gwen, help her get dressed and then meet us downstairs."

Shaken at what she had seen, Gwen mechanically began to pick up Tosh's clothes.

As the men began to walk downstairs, Toshiko called out. "Owen? Is it really going to be alright?"

Turning around, he tenderly reassured her. "I promise."

Ten minutes later, Gwen rejoined the group. "She's out. Now what?"

"You three are going to take your retcon, and I'm going to wait until the pheromones aren't affecting that woman any more. Then, I'll administer her dose and take mine. It will be easier to deal with the alien as fewer people remember him."

"That woman is your wife, Jack," Owen reminded him curtly.

The Captain replied testily. "So I've been told." Seeing Ianto about to open his mouth, he added, "It doesn't matter right now who she is; the plan remains the same. Take your retcon, all of you."

Reluctantly, they all complied. Ianto decided to go to the archives where he felt safer. Gwen sat apprehensively at her desk. After checking on Tosh, Owen asked Jack to help him to the medical bay.

As his eyes began to close, he gave one final instruction. "Make her take the retcon first. If she has a reaction, you might be able to counteract it."

Baffled, Jack promised before laying Owen unconscious on the floor. He had never heard of anyone having a reaction to retcon. The drug was perfectly harmless.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Resignedly, Jack opened the hatch to his bedroom. From the sounds emanating from below, it was obvious that the woman was still captivated by the potent pheromones. Carefully descending the ladder, he was appalled at her condition. How could Owen have left her like this?

Cautiously, he put his hand on her right cheek. No one deserved to suffer like this, but he was doubtful that he could get through to her considering the amount of the spray she had been exposed to. Her skin was surprisingly cool to the touch; he would have expected her to be burning up by now. Forcing himself to say the name he had heard them all use, he quietly called out. "Melissa."

He was astonished when her body stilled and she turned her head to meet his gaze. "Jack," she breathed raggedly. "Help me."

Damn, she was aware of what was happening to her. How the hell could she be aware? Instantly compassionate, he promised, "I'm going to help you, okay, Sweetheart?"

Leaning into his hand, she mumbled, "You only say sweetheart when you're worried."

"No worries," he gently assured her. "I'm going to free your wrists." Carefully, he cut through the plastic that connected her to the ladder. Her wrists were a bloody mess where she'd pulled against the restraints. Why the hell hadn't Owen just put her in a cell?

Gazing guilessly at him, she looked so unitentionally sexy that, for just a second, he had a flash of them lying entangled in a field of red grass. With a jolt, he realized that while he still had no memory of her, he knew every inch of her almost perfect body. Perhaps it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that she was his wife, although he still thought the notion ludicrous.

When he laid her on the ground, she tried to roll away in a tight ball, but he pinned her with his arms, determined not to let her endure the effects of the drugs for longer than necessary. After a moment, she raised her head off the floor to warn him in short gasps, "I can't control anything."

"You don't have to." He hated the fact that her consent was dubious at best, but her pulse was racing so much that he feared she'd suffer a heart attack if she didn't find release soon. Hoping to relax her, he stroked her cheek.

Her neck muscles straining, she protested, "Don't understand. You don't remember. Important."

He cradled the back of her head as an image of them kissing under the Eiffel Tower flashed before him. "I remember enough," he assured her solemnly.

After a tense minute, she nodded.

"Jack," she rasped, her voice a frantic supplication. Relieved that she'd at least given her consent, he quickly shed his clothes and then helped her to do the same.

Joined in body, he felt her finally relax as she stopped fighting against the effects of the pheremones. Then, incredibly, their minds were coupled, and he was assaulted by so many emotions that he was buffeted by them-lust, need, desire, ache, love, tenderness, hunger, violence, passion, self-sacrifice, loyalty and so many more. Hiding nothing, she stood before him and inside him, known completely, as he was to her. He whispered her true name and she, his, before their awareness slowly narrowed from the sublime to merely the extraordinary.

"I think I've just been fucked out of my mind!" Jack crowed gleefully as he snapped his eyes open to gaze at the beauty who was his wife. "Who says sex isn't a cure-all?"

As he shifted his body, she groaned unintentionally in pain. Instantly remorseful, he became aware again of her injuries. "Oh, Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. You wrapped your legs so tightly against the ladder that it looks like someone beat you. Not to mention what you did to your wrists. And, I don't even want to know what happened to give you that swollen cheek. Bad enough knowing I gave you that bump on your head. Are you sure you're okay?"

Thinking of their union, she raised an eyebrow at him and then gave him the biggest, happiest, most self-satisfied grin he had ever seen on her face. "I think this goes beyond okay."

He answered with a cheeky smile and a soft kiss on the lips. "I told you I was good."

"Yes you are," she assured him, but her smile turned into a grimace when she tried to move.

Carefully, he scooped her into his arms and placed her on the bunk. "I think you need some sleep, Beauty, and I am going to take pleasure in killing that monster in the cells." He offered her the retcon.

Her eyes flashing in fury, she pushed the pill away. "I'm the one who gets to kill that monster."

Sensing her resolve, he knelt beside the bunk. Taking her hands in his, he scowled at the deep cuts on her wrist. "We'll do it together. I've got to erase the surveillance tapes anyway; why don't you rest for a while?"

"You promise?" She questioned him suspiciously, fatigue beginning to steal what little energy remained inside her.

"Yes."

By the time he had tucked her under a blanket, her eyes were already closed, her breathing slow and even. Dressing quickly, he went to Tosh's workstation to begin the task of erasing Adam.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two hours later, Jack noted in satisfaction that all physical traces of Adam's existence were gone. Returning to the bunker, he gently woke Melissa, who beamed up at him as soon as she opened her eyes.

"Can I please have a shower? Yishy does not begin to describe how I'm feeling right now."

Her use of that word brought back very bad memories, but she was smiling playfully at him, so he smiled back. "I don't see why not. I've got the cameras and computers set to erase the next two hours, so we're alright there. I wouldn't mind getting clean before my nap, either." Carrying her to the showers, he washed them both, being as gentle as possible as he soaped her body. Bandaged and wrapped in a warm towel, she sat musingly on a bench in the changing room, watching him dress.

Holding out her black pants, he apologized. "I cut off your sexy underwear, and you don't seem to have any spare clothes in the Hub. I'm afraid you'll have to go without."

"I'm going to need some help," she confessed reluctantly. Carefully, he helped her slide her legs into her pants, noting that the black and blue marks on her thighs had not faded in the two hours that she had slept.

Furious once again that she had been dosed with the pheromones, he ranted. "I can't believe Owen restrained you like he did! Your wrists look like you've been wrapped in barbed wire and your thighs haven't begun to hea! He had no right!"

"I'm very glad he did," she said lightly as she buttoned up one of his spare shirts. "I couldn't stand the thought of carrying anyone's child but yours."

Her statement was said so matter-of-factly, and his anger was so intense that it took Jack a moment to comprehend. "Are you telling me you could get pregnant?" he demanded in astonishment, his voice rising in pitch.

Reddening in embarrassment, she became defensive. "I tried to warn you. I said I wasn't in control."

Reeling, he countered, "I know, but. . . ." Her increasing anxiety rolled into his awareness, and he abruptly stopped speaking.

As the silence lengthened, she looked at him sheepishly, her fingers twisting the tails of his overlarge shirt that she was wearing. "Actually, I wasn't trying to tell you I could get pregnant; I was trying to tell you that I am pregnant."

Mouth half open, he gaped at her for an instant before his eyes widened and his face transformed with a joyous smile. "Fantastic!"

He beamed at her, bolstering her spirits with his happiness, until, in another instant, he came crashing down. "You can't take retcon. We have no idea what it'll do to you, much less the baby! There has to be another way."

Then, realizing just what taking the retcon would mean, he added fervently, "I don't want to lose this. It didn't start with the best of circumstances, but we shared something beyond incredible. I can't forget that, not when I've forgotten so much else. I can't."

She leaned wearily against him as he embraced her, suddenly on the verge of tears. "The longer we remember Adam, the stronger he'll become. We have to forget him soon. Right now, that means retcon."

"Can't you erase our memories of him? If your mind's that much more advanced, can't you just pick and choose?" His eyes pleaded with her, and his despondency pained her hearts.

Distressed, she admitted tearfully, "I'm barely functioning right now, Jack. My head's starting to pound again; I can't seem to metabolize the sedatives that are still in my bloodstream; and I'm so exhausted that I just want to cry."

Tenderly, he smoothed the damp ringlets of her hair, and then pressed a kiss on the top of her forehead. "I want you and the baby well. That's the most important thing right now."

Trying to reassure him, she mentioned, "I've taken retcon before."

"As a human," he noted, still worried. "Will it hurt the baby?"

"I don't think so. Not this early, at least."

He soothingly rubbed her back as they both sat for a moment, lost in their own thoughts. "I can feel how scared you are, you know."

Unable to hold back a sob, she confessed, "I'm terrified." Taking a huge breath, she added resolutely. "Let's get this over with."

"Yes, let's," Adam snidely remarked as he appeared a few feet in front of them. "Funnily enough, neither one of you was thinking about me being locked in a cell while you were in the middle of, what did you call it, Captain? Being fucked out of your mind? I was able to roam free, although I seem to be merely a shade of my former self." The creature put his hand through one of the lockers, as if to prove his point.

"Then we'll just think you back," Jack retorted. But when he concentrated on Adam being caged, nothing happened.

"Didn't I tell you? Your mind was so open earlier that I decided to visit. I'm inside that wonderfully complicated brain of yours right now, Jack. And if you don't let me live, then I'll take every memory you have. You'll be nothing more than an empty shell."

"Take the retcon now, Jack!" Melissa screamed as she realized what the creature had done.

Trusting her implicitly, he took the pill out of his pocket and immediately swallowed it. As the drug coursed through his body, she zealously guarded his consciousness against Adam's threat. He sat heavily on the floor as sleep overcame him, gazing at Melissa in apology until his eyelids dropped shut.

As soon as Jack was free from the creature's influence, it began to attack her. "How long can you keep me at bay, Red? You're so frail already. I crave your possession. Your mind is like a minefield. So many hidden memories. One step in the right direction and I can release so much-your captivity by the Time Agency, the High Council's secret plans, Arcadia, the reason you suffer, the Bad Wolf. Such terrible, wonderful memories."

Recoiling at his familiarity, she immediately thought him back into the cells, refusing to dwell on the cryptic taunts he had thrown at her. Yet, one statement gave her renewed hope. How could she have been so thick? She could hide a memory to be triggered at a certain moment. Jack was absolutely correct. No matter why it had started, what they had done together was beautiful; she couldn't bear to lose that knowledge.

Knowing that she was rapidly weakening, she gathered the last of her strength to separate their joyous union from her conscious self. Panicking, she urgently sought an event as the trigger when she realized her shaky grasp of time would not allow her to merely set a countdown in her subconscious.

Once she was finished, she slipped into her boots and slowly walked to Jack's still form. Rifling through his pocket, she found the retcon pill and clasped it in her hand. Each step was an agony, but she stubbornly made her way to the cells. She was determined to witness the creature's death.


	41. Occam's Razor

Author's Notes - Thanks again for dwatlaskrhtcm for reviewing. And thanks to everyone who's reading this. As you're about to see, nothing with Torchwood is every easy.

* * *

><p>Jack was the first to wake. His mouth felt like he had eaten ash and his head throbbed in time with his heart. When he recognized where he was, he became instantly alert, running out of the changing room to check on his team.<p>

Finding Gwen slumped over her desk, he checked her pulse, relaxing only slightly when he found it strong and steady. Yanking open her desk drawer, he picked up her gun—the better defend them against whomever had done this to them.

Shaking her gently, he called out. "Gwen. Gwen, wake up. Come on, Gwen."

Unenthusiastically, she opened her eyes. "What?" Why was Jack standing next to her? Had she fallen asleep at her desk?

Tensely, he explained. "Torchwood's been breached. We were knocked out. Help me find the others." Helping her stand, he returned her gun to her.

Together, they began to search the Hub, quickly finding Owen lying in the medical bay. Rousing him, Jack again explained the situation. "The Hub's been breached. We've got to find Ianto and Tosh."

Cranky, the medic argued. "How'd someone get in? The alarms aren't going off."

Frustrated, Jack pressed his hand against his forehead in an effort to stop the aching in his skull. "How the hell should I know? I've been unconscious."

"Give me your hand," Owen ordered.

"What? Why?"

"Call it a nasty suspicion," the doctor answered.

Complying, Jack watched Owen prick his index finger and press a drop of blood on his small medical scanner. "You've been retconned, Captain."

"Shit! Who the hell could've done that?"

"No idea," he replied, handing Jack two aspirin. "Your turn, Gwen."

Apprehensively, she let Owen repeat the procedure on her. "You've been retconned as well.

Quickly taking his own blood sample, he caustically confirmed, "And that makes three for three."

"Owen, you and I need to find the others. Gwen, try to figure out how much time we've lost by checking the surveillance tapes, but stay vigilant." Still wary, Jack led Owen up to his office so he could arm himself.

They heard Tosh's incoherent mumbling coming from the hothouse. It was more difficult to wake her, and when the medic looked at the results of her blood test, his face was grim. "It's not just retcon in her blood, Jack. She's got traces of that sex spray I found in the archives."

The Captain couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I thought I told you to get rid of that!"

Defensive, Owen acknowledged, "I thought it would be safe locked up."

"Well, obviously, it wasn't!" He looked over at Tosh in concern. She was still quite groggy.

"I'm going to have to exam her."

"Can't you just scan her?"

"The scanner's great for major injuries. Internal bleeding, broken bones, no problem. But looking for evidence of that? It's not going to help." The doctor's fists were clenched in anger as his worry for her boiled over.

Jack put his hand on Owen's arm in sympathy. "Take care of her. Let me know what you find. I'm going to the archives to search for Ianto."

Deeply troubled, Jack stalked to the archives, where he found Ianto lying on the floor near Melissa's desk. "Take it easy," he warned softly as the young man tried to sit up.

"What's happened?"

"I honestly don't know," Jack admitted ruefully. "We've all been retconned. Tosh has another drug in her system as well. When Owen's finished examining her, he'll need to check your blood."

Following the Captain up the stairs, Ianto asked, "Is she going to be alright? Who did this to us, Jack?"

"I don't even know how much time we've lost yet. Last thing I remember is getting ready to check that rift spike." As he replied, a cold anger settled in his voice. "And Tosh better be alright, or I will kill whoever did this to her." Ianto silently added his assent.

Reaching Gwen's workstation, he glanced towards the medical bay, but Owen was not yet finished examining Toshiko. Nervously, Gwen asked him, "What's Owen going to do if she was raped?"

Giving her a glare that would have melted the polar ice caps, Jack snapped. "Give the two of them some privacy, for god's sake, Gwen. You couldn't have known what Owen was doing if you weren't listening in, or did you just turn the camera on and watch?"

"I was worried, Jack! None of us know what's happened and that scares the shit out of me right now. So, yes, I did listen. We need to know!"

Ianto looked at her askance. Tosh would be mortified if she found out Gwen had been eavesdropping on her conversations, much less a medical exam as intimate and awkward as that one. He waited for Jack to rip her to shreds, but the dressing down never came.

"Tell me what you've discovered," he demanded wearily, wishing yet again that Gwen's compassion and curiosity were coupled with greater discretion.

"The surveillance cameras stop just after Melissa left the Hub for London, and the computers have been wiped. I checked, Jack. We've lost almost five days."

Alarmed by the implications, he pulled out his mobile and dialed home. "No one's answering," he explained anxiously. After failing to reach Susan and Matthew through their mobile numbers, he frantically called Melissa's, but hers was also switched off.

"Ianto, go to the house. See what you can find. Then, go to the school and see if anyone mentions anything suspicious. Contact Andy and get him to put out a police bulletin. We have no idea who or what we're dealing with here."

Nodding, Ianto rushed out of the Hub, his distress at what had been done to him completely forgotten. He needed to find Susan. If someone had hurt her, he was going to make them pay.

Thinking furiously, Jack turned to Gwen. "Make sure Rhys is okay. Ask him if he noticed anything suspicious about your work in the last few days."

Frightened for her fiancé, Gwen, too, raced out of the Hub. As she left, Jack made another call. "Brigadier, we have a situation here. I need to know if Melissa's still with you." "That long, huh."

Tensely, he admitted, "I don't know if she made it back to Cardiff, and the kids are missing. The whole team's been retconned. We've lost five days." Listening intently for a few minutes, he sincerely replied, "I appreciate that. Keep them on standby. It's going to take us a while to determine what was done to the Hub. Hell, we don't even know who's behind this yet."

Finally ending the call, he added gravely, "And, Alistair, please call immediately if you get any information about her, or the children." "I will." "Thanks."

Owen and Tosh appeared next to him as he finished the call. They were self-consciously holding hands. "How are you, Tosh?"

"I'm okay," she assured him soberly, tightening her grip on the medic's hand. "Owen promises me that there's no evidence of anything happening. It's just, well, it's just hard knowing I was under the influence of that stuff and not remembering any of it."

"I'm glad you're okay." His smile of reassurance was brief, however, as he thought about his missing family. "I need you to get the surveillance cameras running. We've lost five days."

"Can't it wait, Jack? She's still a little shaky."

Filled with helpless anger and anxiety, Jack finally snapped. "Melissa and the kids aren't answering their phones. I need every resource available, and I need it now!"

"Shit," Owen breathed, a cold fear settling in his stomach.

Rapidly bringing the computers back online, Tosh began to flick through the surveillance monitors. "Look! Her car's here."

Cursing himself for not considering the obvious, Jack issued swift commands. "We'll have to search the entire Hub. Owen, you're with me. Tosh, I want you locked in my office. You can do your computer work from there." Not allowing her time to protest, he escorted her up the stairs and locked her inside, giving her his Webley, just in case.

Running down the stairs, he met Owen, who handed him an automatic pistol. As Jack checked to make sure it was fully loaded, he glanced at the medic, who was similarly armed, noting his medical kit slung over his shoulder.

"We better not need that," he growled. The medic simply nodded, understanding his friend was already at a breaking point. In tandem, the two men silently began to sweep the Hub from top to bottom.

After forty minutes of fruitless searching, Tosh broke in over the comms. "The Weevils are going crazy in cellblock eight on sublevel three."

"Do you see Melissa?" Jack dreaded to think that someone had locked her in with a Weevil.

"No, she's not in a cell, but the cameras don't cover the entire hallway."

"Thanks, Tosh. We'll check it out." Racing to investigate, Owen and Jack cautiously approached the closed door to cellblock eight. Jack almost hit the prone figure of his wife as he forcefully pushed the door open.

Instantly, Owen knelt beside her, checking her pulse and respiration. "Her pulse is barely registering, Jack. Help me turn her over."

Gently, they turned her on her back, exposing the ugly bruises on her face and head. "Christ," Owen exclaimed as he lifted her hand in order to test her blood. Thinking the scanner must be in error, he repeated the test, only to get the same results.

"Jack," he urged. "Try to wake her up. We need to keep her conscious. She's got so many drugs in her system that I don't think even she can handle it, and I don't dare give her anything else."

Frightened, Jack shook her to try to get her to wake. "Melissa, wake up. Come on, Melissa, wake up! Sweetheart, I need you to talk to me. Melissa, please!"

When nothing seemed to rouse her, he entered her mind, desperately trying to reach her. He couldn't seem to touch her, however. The longer he stayed, the dizzier and more confused he became, but he doggedly continued. Finally, as he was about to pass out, he felt her, and pulled her forcibly to awareness.

Leaning against the wall while he waited for his head to clear, he watched Melissa roll to her side and be sick all over the concrete floor. Owen tried to reassure him as he tended to her. "It's okay, Jack. Just a reaction to the damned drugs. Keep her calm while I check her head and don't let her go back to sleep."

Crawling to her side, he supported her as Owen scanned her head. "She's got a concussion and a broken cheekbone." Leaning over her, Owen asked loudly, "Melissa, can you understand me? I need to know how you're feeling."

"Ti . . . erd. Hert . . .zz." Her head sagged.

"God damn it, Jack! Keep her awake!" Roughly, the doctor grabbed her injured cheek, causing her to whimper, but keeping her conscious.

Chagrinned, Jack sat her up, only to have her yell in agony. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Hurts," she mumbled again, although she seemed a little more coherent.

"Where?" Owen demanded, getting a sick sense of foreboding.

"All over," she complained weakly.

"Point to where it hurts the most," the physician ordered, expecting her to point to her face.

Shakily, she pointed at her upper thighs. Swallowing hard, Owen looked at Jack, who had gone pale. "I need to get her upstairs, Captain." Gently, Jack picked her up, whispering apologies as he carried her to the medical bay.

As he tenderly laid her on the table, he clasped her hand. Owen held some ammonia under her nose, which caused her to turn and vomit yet again, but it also seemed to make her more alert. She was still very groggy and confused, however.

"Jack?"

"I'm here," he promised. On the doctor's orders, he propped a small pillow under her head and neck.

"Don't feel so good," she admitted with a small moan.

"You're going to be fine," he lovingly assured her. "I'm going to make sure."

"Jack," Owen called in an undertone, "You shouldn't be here for this."

"I know what you've got to do, Owen," he whispered angrily, "and I'm not leaving her."

"Think, Jack!" Hating to add to his friend's anguish, Owen nevertheless reminded him that there were other priorities. "Your kids are still missing. What if they're somewhere else in the Hub?"

Torn, he stared at the doctor in consternation. In his despair, he had momentarily forgotten about the kids. Giving Owen a curt nod, he pleaded, "Take care of her."

"I promise." Tapping his comm., Owen called out, "Can you come down to the medical bay, Tosh? I might need your help."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

It took Jack over two hours to search every inch of the Hub, but in the end, there was no sign of Susan or Matthew. He didn't know whether to be dismayed or relieved. He approached the medical bay with a heavy heart, terrified of what Owen might tell him.

Walking down the stairs, he watched Tosh talking gently to Melissa, who was lying on the table covered by a sheet. To Jack's eye, his wife looked to be in bad shape, and he worried anew that he would lose her. Seeing Owen making some notes on his computer, he decided to confront the medic first.

"How bad is it?"

Owen looked up from his work to stare at his friend in heartfelt sympathy. "Bad. She must have put up quite a fight."

He leaned against the counter, grief-stricken. The doctor had just confirmed his worst fears and added new ones. "Tell me," he commanded.

"She was bound by her wrists. Probably something like plastic zip ties. The skin is sliced in several deep grooves. She must have struggled a lot."

Pausing a moment to try to keep the revulsion out of his voice, Owen continued quietly. "Her right cheekbone's fractured, but I can't tell you if she fell or was hit with something. Something impacted her head hard enough to give her a concussion. And her thighs-"

Losing his composure, Owen seethed, "Christ, Jack, I've never seen anything that bad. It looks like someone beat her with a crowbar."

"And the rest?" Jack finally asked when he found he could once again speak.

Clinically, Owen answered in clipped, precise tones. "There's significant vaginal bruising, but no trace of semen. She'd been cleaned up by someone and her wrists were bandaged. From her blood sample, I would have to guess that she'd been given a massive overdose of sedatives, three times the amount of pheromones that Tosh was exposed to, a stimulant and the retcon. A human would be dead from that several times over; I think whoever did this knew who she was and meant to kill her."

Giving Jack another compassionate glance, he added, "She's been asking for you. Why don't you stay with her, and I'll send Ianto in to see you when he comes back."

Not knowing whether to kick something or cry, Jack walked to where his wife lay and politely dismissed Toshiko. Tenderly, he kissed Melissa's forehead. "I'm here."

"Jack. Can't stay awake." She gripped his hand harder than he expected. Opening her eyes, she softly begged, "Ginger, protein and salty. Now. Tell Owen."

"Owen!" He bellowed as her eyes drooped shut. "She says she needs ginger, protein and she said salty. I think that means something salty to eat. What do we have?"

Running to raid the break room, Owen wondered again about strange Time Lord physiology. There was a long forgotten can of ginger ale in the back of the fridge, some of Tosh's almonds in the cabinet, and a crushed packet of potato crisps lying on the counter. Hoping Jack had understood correctly, he brought back his finds.

The pain of sitting helped clear her mind momentarily, and Melissa studied the food in front of her. Swallowing half the can of ginger ale in one gulp, she quickly ate a handful of almonds and then followed it with the bag of crisps. Then, she finally let herself acknowledge what her body had been trying to tell her since she had regained consciousness. The shock of that was more than enough to catalyze the enzymes and purge her of the toxins. Coughing out a huge cloud of black smoke, she wearily leaned against Jack.

"Bloody hell!" Owen pricked her finger and read the results of the medical scan. "How did you do that?" Taking one look at her, however, he quickly patted her hand. "Doesn't matter," he told her soothingly. "You should get some rest."

Ignoring his advice, she fearfully demanded, "What happened to me?"

Jack hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry. We can't be sure exactly what happened. We've all been retconned." Gazing sorrowfully into her eyes, he confessed, "You've been hurt." He swallowed, steeling himself to say the words. "You were raped, Sweetheart."

She stared at him in shocked disbelief. If that was true, then- "NO!" she screamed. "Don't say that! You don't know! It's not true!"

Regretfully, Owen contradicted her. "I'm sorry, Melissa, but all of your injuries point to that. You were sexually assaulted."

She stared at her bandaged wrists bleakly for several seconds. Her voice cracking, she despairingly requested, "I want to go home."

Jack looked questioningly at Owen, who subtly shook his head. Now was not the time to tell her about Susan and Matthew's disappearance. The doctor gave her a choice. "Your injuries are too severe for you to go home. You can stay here or go to hospital, but you are going to rest."

Despondent, she chose to stay in the Hub.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How's Tosh?"

"She's fine. She's trying to do a system recovery on the computers." Owen answered Ianto distractedly, his thoughts dwelling on the woman who definitely was not.

"Good. I need to talk to Jack. Is he in his office?"

"No," Owen's mouth tightened into a thin line. "He's with Melissa. She's . . . We found her outside the cells. She's been badly hurt."

"Weevils?"

"That might have been easier to deal with," the doctor admitted brusquely, giving the archivist a hard stare.

Finally understanding exactly what Owen was trying to tell him, Ianto's face became an impassive mask. "I see." The mask cracked however, as his anxiety rose. "Will she be alri-I mean, will she recover?"

"I don't know," the doctor admitted, dwelling on her emotional trauma rather than her physical injuries. "She's sleeping right now." Wanting to change the subject, he asked, "What did you find out?"

"Not much," he acknowledged, his fear for the twins greatly increased. "The principal of the school told me that this is the third day they've been absent. She's been attempting to reach Jack and Melissa, but their phones have gone straight to voicemail. The house hasn't been empty much longer than that, but it looks like they, or someone, packed for a trip. Their backpacks are gone, along with their coats. I couldn't be sure what was missing, but some of their clothes are gone as well."

"Are you saying they left voluntarily?"

"I wouldn't go as far as that, but I am saying that whoever took them may have reasons for keeping them alive." Grim, he added, "They also didn't want the kids tracked. I found both their mobiles on the dining room table."

"Jack needs to hear this. He's down in the medical bay." Searching Ianto's face, Owen hesitantly advised, "Just, don't take anything he might say too personally. He's pretty upset right now."

"That's got to be the understatement of the year," Ianto remarked without humor as he prepared to give the Captain more bad news.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What did you find, Ianto?"

"Not much, I'm afraid," As he spoke it was almost impossible not to stare at Melissa's battered face. "They've been out of school for three days. There's no sign of a struggle in the house, and their backpacks, jackets and some clothes are missing. Unfortunately, their mobiles were still in the house."

"Three hours and that's all you've come up with? Why haven't you searched the CCTV footage? Do I have to do everything myself?"

"I was just going to do that now," The Welshman responded with the utmost patience, knowing how devestated Jack must be. "However, since we don't know exactly when they disappeared, it's going to be difficult to track them that way."

Lashing out, Jack ranted. "Do you think I fucking care? As long as it takes, Ianto! Get Gwen to help you. Make her work for once. I want to know who took them, do you understand me? Because I am going to kill them, slowly."

"I, of course, sir." He quickly retreated under Jack's threatening glare. Even with Owen's warning, he was still rattled by his boss's demeanor, not that he blamed him in the slightest. Before talking to Gwen, he put on a large pot of coffee. It was going to be a very long night.

Whether Jack's outburst had been loud enough to rouse Melissa or her nightmares had become unbearable, her eyes popped open soon after the archivist left.

"Sweetheart, you should go back to sleep."

"No." Her voice was flat and emotionless, but it also held more than a hint of obstinacy.

He hugged her, but she stayed rigid against him, ignoring his touch on every level. Hurt by her rejection, he quietly pleaded, "You need to let your body heal."

"I've had worse." She dismissed his concern with a frosty glance and stood up, wincing only slightly as she took a few steps away from him. "I'm going home."

Stricken, he confessed, "You can't."

She glared at him disdainfully. "I think you'll find I can." Turning her back to him, she slowly started to walk up the stairs, only to be stopped in her tracks by the anguish in his voice.

"You can't. Susan and Matthew aren't there. Someone's taken them."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Melissa sat in front of the computer monitors, reviewing every CCTV camera in Cardiff with a swiftness that no human could match. The sheer volume of footage, however, was enormous. She had been at her task for seventeen hours straight without any sighting of her children. Owen sat next to her, waiting for her to collapse from exhaustion, but she showed no signs of weakening. Jack had retreated from the area after she pointedly gave him the cold shoulder for two hours.

Her icy manner was fooling no one but her husband, whose own feelings of inadequacy only reinforced his belief that she was angry at him for again failing to protect her and the children. He spent most of his time bullying the team for leads, and the rest of his time canvassing their neighborhood, hoping that someone had noticed the kids' departure. Unfortunately, no one had seen anything peculiar, although the lady with the annoying dogs had mentioned that she had seen a pizza delivery vehicle on Tuesday night.

Dejected, Jack decided to take a look inside his home for any clues Ianto might have missed. The den and dining area looked normal, if a trifle untidy. The kitchen was cleaner, although there were dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Inspecting the refrigerator, he noticed the pizza leftovers had been put away. That corresponded to the neighbor's observation, and narrowed down the timeframe. If the kids had still been at the house on Wednesday morning, then there would be no leftovers; they both liked cold pizza for breakfast.

Unsettled, he walked into their bathroom to search the cabinets and drawers. All their toiletries were still there, except for Matthew's contact lens solution. Why was that missing? Entering Matthew's room, he saw that the bed was unmade, as usual. But Ianto was right; his backpack was missing as well as his jacket. If they had been taken at home, where was his backpack? Finished, he searched Susan's bedroom. Other than discovering that his daughter had a stash of condoms hidden behind the top drawer in her dresser, Jack didn't notice anything amiss. Though, like Matthew's, her backpack and coat were missing.

Exhausted, he walked into his bedroom and sat dejectedly on the bed. He stared at the room, lost in thought. In the five short months that he, Melissa, Susan and Matthew had shared the house, it had become a home, and they, a family. He didn't understand why it all had to be taken away, especially like this.

After a few minutes, he decided to bring back some clothes for his wife. He was sure she felt self-conscious wearing his shirt. He picked out a comfortable pair of her jeans, several sets of undergarments, warm socks, a navy cardigan sweater, and a brown blouse. Going to the closet to find a duffel bag, he noticed that her shoes were in a heap on the bottom shelf, instead of the neat rows she favored. Scarcely daring to hope, he hastily threw her shoes out of the way, staring at the fake electrical outlet in the wall behind the shelf. Taking out his pocketknife, he quickly unscrewed the faceplate, revealing a small, empty hole in the sheetrock. He put his right hand inside, as far as he could reach, feeling for the five hundred pounds they kept there for emergencies, but the nook was empty.

Running to the kitchen, he impatiently removed the crumb tray from the toaster oven they never used and looked inside. The money normally hidden there was gone as well. He raced to the den. Seven DVD's were stacked haphazardly on the coffee table. Seven crumpled tissues were thrown on the floor. Seven books were tossed on the sofa, and seven empty soda bottles littered the room. Maybe, just maybe, things weren't as bleak as they appeared.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Jack neared the workstations, he dismissed Owen with a wave. No matter how angry Melissa was with him, he needed to tell her what he had discovered. Sitting beside her for several minutes, he watched her work with a single-mindedness that was somewhat alarming. Finally, he touched her arm.

Startled, she flinched, but recovered quickly, turning to him in patient expectation. "I went to the house," he explained, handing her the bag of clothes. She merely nodded at him and turned to go back to her work.

Before she could lose herself in the video footage, he hastened to add, "The money's missing, all of it."

She whipped back around to stare at him, her look one of desperate hope.

"They're running. I don't know why, or how close anyone is to catching them, but they left on their own. They left sometime between Tuesday night and Wednesday morning."

"Did they leave a message?"

"Seven days."

Relief washed over her so quickly that it left her weak and trembling. Instinctively, he embraced her, unleashing the emotions she had fought so hard to control. She sagged against him, her mind a maelstrom of fear, anxiety, shame and dread. He felt it all, countering her insecurities as best he could. She couldn't help but feel his own feelings of guilt and fear, but she noticed how tightly he sought to repress them as he sought to comfort her.

Little by little she calmed, although he could still feel her fear and anxiety. "I'm scared, too," he admitted out loud.

She buried her head in his chest, frightened for so many reasons he did not yet know. "I just wish it hadn't happened." This time, she wasn't speaking about the children.

He knew immediately what she meant. "Me too. But you're alive, and I don't think I could accept the alternative. I love you, and that's not ever going to change."

"Is that a promise?"

"Yes." He gazed into her eyes, seeing an apprehensiveness there that he did not completely understand, but it only strengthened his response. He loved her, and an act of violence was not going to change that.

Hugging him tightly, she decided that when she finally had to tell him, maybe, just maybe, it would be alright. Nevertheless, she didn't plan on saying anything anytime soon. Denial was not merely a human trait. Time Lords had been masters of it as well.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What's wrong with Ianto? He looks a little green around the gills," Melissa remarked to Jack as she entered his office.

"He and I were just having a conversation about relationships."

"Oh really? I'd like to hear what you said."

"Nothing much, I simply explained that if he got Susan pregnant, I would castrate him." He tapped his pen on the desk, embarrassed that he had been caught.

Momentarily at a loss for words, she finally replied coolly. "How very Victorian of you."

Defensive, he raved, "I found condoms in her room!" When she continued to stare at him reprovingly, he tried to explain. "Look, I didn't tell him to stop having sex, but the last thing any of us need right now is a baby to deal with."

She tensed at his words. "Of course," she replied stiffly. Then, she came to her daughter's defense. "You should have said something to Susan, not scared Ianto half to death. She's taking contraceptives, you know, and more responsible than you give her credit for. I'm sure she doesn't want a baby any more than you do."

Abashed, he admitted, "I guess I should have." After a moment, he gave her a self-deprecating smile and snorted softly. "Who would have thought that I'd be the overprotective father?

"Not me," she readily confessed. "He's a good kid, Jack. You know that-intimately, I might add."

"He's not a kid," he grumbled, not daring to touch the other statement.

She grinned playfully at him. "He is to me."

Glad that she had recovered her some of her good mood, he joked, "We're all kids to you."

"When you're as old as I am, you'll think the same way." Teasingly, she added in a husky voice, "Besides, I've never thought of you as a kid."

Aroused, he pulled her close and began to kiss her throat, but she stiffened at his touch. He stopped immediately, turning his embrace into a comforting hug. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rush you."

"It's okay." She didn't fool him for an instant. "I think I'll go downstairs and get some tea."

Damn, damn and double damn, he thought sourly. How could he have been so stupid? It was less than two weeks from her attack, and the kids had only been home a few days. Why did he have to go and push things? Her injuries still hadn't healed completely, which was troubling in itself. He was going to have to take things much slower with her.

Ignoring the paperwork piled on his desk, Jack did the one thing he had been doing constantly since waking up in the changing room with no memory of how he had gotten there-he worried.


	42. Guilt

Author's Notes - Thanks yet again to dwatlaskrhtcm for the review. This chapter takes place during the Torchwood episode _Meat_, and if you've seen the episode, you'll recognize a good bit of the plot.

* * *

><p>"Your coffee, ma'am."<p>

Melissa jumped as Ianto's abrupt presence startled her. She had been thinking too much again and had lost track of time in the archives. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was already midmorning.

Fighting the queasiness that the mere smell of coffee brought these days, she graciously thanked the young man. "I appreciate it, Ianto, but I don't really feel like a cup of coffee right now. Maybe later."

"Would you prefer a cup of tea?" Since the attack, they all worried about her, but he tried not to be too obvious about it. She tended to get bristly if she thought anyone was showing too much concern or, god forbid, pity.

"Tea actually sounds perfect, but I can go get some in a few minutes. You don't need to make a special trip." She stood up as casually as she could and turned away from the smell of the coffee; it was really starting to make her stomach churn.

"It's not a special trip. Owen wants that singularity scalpel out of secure storage to run a few more tests on it, and then I was going to spend some time filing the UNIT reports. Jack's been keeping them haphazardly on his desk for the last six months." He gave her the smallest of smiles to show it was no trouble at all.

"I'd like some tea, then." Looking at him shrewdly, she asked, "Still hiding from Jack?"

He shrugged. "I thought it would be best to be out of sight, out of mind for a few more days."

Ignoring her stomach for the moment, she took the time to apologize. "He shouldn't have said what he said to you, Ianto. He's not usually that overprotective, but he's gone through a lot lately. We're both happy that Susan's happy, and neither one of us has any expectations beyond that."

"That's . . . good to know," he acknowledged belatedly, somewhat amazed that that she seemed to be more concerned about him than herself. "I'll bring back some tea for you in just a minute."

Later, Ianto picked up lunch from the Gourmet Burger Kitchen. Since the retcon, Jack had been finding excuses for everyone to eat at least one meal together, not that the Welshman found fault in his boss's logic. With an unseen enemy hiding in the shadows, one of the team viciously assaulted, and each of them missing five days, it was somewhat comforting to spend a little downtime together, even in the Hub.

They were all chatting happily in the conference room, and for once, Melissa wasn't the center of attention. Gwen was regaling them with tales of wedding dress shopping. She and Rhys had decided on an early December wedding to take place at Tredegar House. It would be a small ceremony, but they had invited everyone from Torchwood, along with twenty or so family members.

"Aren't you hungry?" Jack leaned over and spoke quietly when he saw that his wife had not touched her lunch.

"A little," she reassured him, knowing that she would have to eat at least half the hamburger to appease him. Putting a cheery expression on her face, she took a healthy bite.

As she chewed, her stomach roiled, and it was all she could do to make it to the metal trash can before she vomited. Both Jack and Owen were out of their chairs in an instant, smothering worry etched in both of their faces.

"There's something wrong with that." Standing unsteadily, she wiped her mouth with a napkin. As they all stared at her in incomprehension, she reiterated her discovery.

"Whatever that is, it doesn't taste right." Her second declaration finally made an impact on all of them; hastily, they threw away the rest of their lunches.

"What's the matter with it?" Owen asked guardedly while he carefully wrapped his own burger in paper to take it to the medical bay.

"How should I know, you're the doctor," she snapped and then clamped her hand over her mouth in an effort to keep from vomiting yet again.

"Are you okay?" Jack watched her worriedly as he gestured to Ianto to get her something hot to drink.

Shaking her head, she let him lead her back to her chair. "Sorry, I just, I wasn't expecting it. I didn't mean to . . . ." Damn, they were all watching her like some injured puppy again. She needed to get out of the room before she lost her temper.

"I'd be sick too if I'd known it had gone off. You must have some incredibly sensitive taste buds." Trust Gwen to blindly diffuse the situation; she really did have good instincts sometimes.

"Unfortunately." She put a sheepish smile on her face. "I better go clean that up."

"Drink your tea," Jack ordered in a gentle voice. "I'll throw the trash can out and get a new one. Not as if it's special or anything.

"I'm not an invalid, Jack!" She didn't mean to shout at him in front of the others, but couldn't hold her temper in check any longer. "I can clean up after myself. All my injuries are healed. I wish you'd stop acting like I'm going to break!"

"I was being nice!" he roared back.

"Think I'd better check recent Rift activity," Tosh mumbled to the air as she quickly left the conference room. Gwen and Ianto immediately followed, knowing that the next few minutes were likely to get very ugly.

"You scared everyone away," she unreasonably accused.

"You're the one with the chip on her shoulder, not me." Watching her glare at him, he sighed and tried to offer an olive branch. "I'm sorry. The last thing I want to do is be overbearing and overprotective. I swear I was just trying to be nice. I would have done the same for anyone else."

That admission made her eyes tear. "I'm being stupid again. I just can't stand it when everyone looks at me like that."

He didn't ask her like what; he didn't have to. He knew the rest of the team more than occasionally looked upon her with pity rather than compassion, but he had made a conscious effort not to treat her that way. It stung that she would accuse him of that, especially when she was completely closed off from him. He had no idea what she was thinking or actually feeling, and that bothered him as much as the knowledge that he still had no idea who had hurt her so badly.

"You're not stupid; just trying to cope with things." Standing in front of her, he held her hands, hoping that she would make contact with him, but she did not.

"Look, I know there's a lot going on in that head of yours, and I really wish you would let me in, but you've got to believe me, I'm not trying to be overprotective. You're such a strong person, but everyone could use a little help now and then."

Abruptly, she was crying against his shoulder, again, and apologizing, again, for being stupid. Most of their conversations lately seemed to end in shouting or tears or both, and he wondered how long it would be before she would open up and let him help her deal with everything that had happened. She barely slept, barely ate, and was losing weight at an alarming pace. It had only been a few weeks, but it seemed a lifetime ago-her demeanor had changed that much.

He ran his fingers through her bobbed hair. "I love you.

"I don't deserve it." She cried harder, hating herself for the way she was acting.

To show her how wrong she was, he kissed her softly on the lips, expecting her to pull away after a moment, but she surprised him by deepening the kiss. As they continued their embrace, for an instant he could feel the desperate need surging through her body, but she abruptly broke their tenuous mental connection.

Pulling away from her enough to meet her gaze, he asked, "Do you want me to stop?"

"No." As if to prove her answer, she began to unbutton his shirt.

Even without the mental connection, he could tell that she was aroused, but he didn't want to rush her into something she wasn't ready for. Letting her take the lead, he couldn't help but wonder when she would get scared and push him away.

She didn't.

Afterwards, he sat with her on his lap and tenderly stroked her cheek. She still had not let him into her mind, but he could sense her contentment. While he knew better than to think that things were back to normal, he was very thankful that she had trusted him enough to be intimate again. Only last week, she had been flinching from his touch.

"I'm sorry if it was too quick." She apologized wearily, her fluctuating hormones once again pushing her towards melancholy.

"It was wonderfully intense. Who cares if it was quick?" Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her until she finally responded with equal enthusiasm. "There's always next time, if you want something slower. I am an incredibly well satisfied man at the moment. You'd know that if you'd just open up to me."

She tensed, and he worried that he had ruined everything they had just shared, but she seemed to be considering his words very carefully, rather than rejecting them outright.

"My mind is very dark right now. I don't think you'd like what you see."

"I think you'd be surprised at what doesn't shock me. But even if you're not ready, I want you to know what I'm feeling. You shouldn't have to second-guess yourself all the time."

Touched by his devotion, she dropped her defenses, only hiding those things that she couldn't bear for him to know just yet. Her mind was decidedly gloomy, and she was incredibly anxious and tense, but as soon as she sensed him and felt his tremendous support, she was able to gain a small sense of equilibrium.

He was hugging her in the desert of his childhood as she clung to him, afraid now to let go. The pain he saw all around her hurt like a physical wound, but he pushed his own feelings aside to focus on her. "I wish I could do more, Sweetheart. I'm sorry I can't fix everything for you."

Cocooned in his embrace, she soaked up all the feelings of love and affection he radiated towards her. "I feel better just being near you. It's been difficult getting my emotions under control."

Taking a step back, she admired the dry landscape, wondering privately to herself how such a decent human being could have grown up on such an unforgiving planet.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dressed and feeling happier than he had in weeks, Jack found Owen in the autopsy bay, still analyzing the remains of his hamburger.

"So, is it rotten or something else?" he asked, a satisfied grin visible on his face.

"Something else. It's alien, and eating rotten meat might be fucking healthier." Owen didn't try to hide his disgust. "I have no idea what kind of creature we're talking about here, or what diseases it might or might not carry. So, I called the restaurant. They get their hamburger already ground from a distributor who supplies most of the restaurants and half of the grocery stores in Cardiff."

"Sounds like spaghetti's off the menu for a while, then." Thinking furiously, Jack decided, "We're going to have to find the source of the meat before we shut down the distributor. Don't want to tip them off. I'm sure they don't get their beef from just one company."

"Seven, actually. Ianto's already called the distributor posing as Health and Safety. Told them he was doing a telephone inspection, whatever that means. Seemed like they bought it, though. We've got the addresses of all seven suppliers." Finished with his tests, Owen threw his burger in the trash.

"Good. Once we figure out who's not herding cows, we can decide upon a plan of action." Whistling jauntily, Jack turned to leave, but Owen stopped him with his next sentence.

"I had Tosh erase the last hour of the conference room's surveillance tape; I didn't think you'd want a replay."

"You watched?" Jack's jaw tightened, his anger evident in the tenseness of his body.

"Christ, Captain! I am not some bloody voyeur! I just assumed you and she were doing something besides arguing when you didn't reappear after a few minutes." In a kinder voice, he continued, "I don't normally advocate sex as therapy, but in this instance, I can see where it would be beneficial for both of you."

"She's trying to relax a little more, so, yeah, I think it helped." The smile turned to a frown, however, as he remembered all the pain she concealed in her mind.

Unexpectedly, Owen put his hand on Jack's shoulder, "It's just going to take time, Jack. You can't expect her to get over it just like that."

"I don't." Choking up, he confessed to his friend. "She let me into her mind. She looks so normal here at work, even when she's been so emotional, but on the inside, she's completely shredded. She's filled with so much pain and self-doubt, and it's not just the rape and not remembering; it's everything, Owen. I could feel it all-the Time War, her injuries, her captivity, worry about the kids, worry about me, worry about things I can't even guess at, her grief at the Doctor's death-it's as if her attack has ripped open a giant emotional scab and she's bleeding from the inside. I don't know how to help her."

The doctor was silent for a few moments, shocked that Jack had been so open with him. He finally offered, "You both need counseling. You could call the Brigadier; maybe see if UNIT has a psychologist available with the right clearance."

"Like that's an option," he remarked bitterly. "And don't offer to do it yourself; they're some lines that just shouldn't be crossed."

"I'd probably need therapy myself after listening to the two of you. This world is fucked up enough without knowing all the ways it could be fucked up even more."

Jack was correct, damn it; he and Melissa couldn't trust UNIT enough to speak to one of their therapists, and he was too close to the situation to be objective. He was already worried about Melissa's weight loss, and Jack's confession had only heightened his concern. It sounded like she was one straw short of breaking, and he doubted his friend's ability to cope if she did.

As Jack turned to leave for the second time, he had a hideous sense of deja vu, suddenly remembering the ghastly suffering of the whale-like creature that was even now being cut and sold as cheap beef. Damn, why hadn't he realized sooner? But there had been no accident, and Rhys wasn't working for that haulage company.

"Where's that list of suppliers?" he asked curtly, his manner changing in an instant to one of cold calculation.

"Ianto's got it. Why?" Jack looked like he could blow steam through his ears, and the doctor was now concerned about his abrupt mood swing.

"I know who they are and what creature they're using. I just need the address."

"How the hell do you know that?" Owen demanded, but his boss had already stalked away, calling brusquely for the archivist.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I don't want you to go, and that's final!" The conference room was once again the scene of unpleasantness between Jack and Melissa as the Torchwood leader outlined the plan of attack against the group that was holding the whale-like alien in a warehouse outside of Cardiff. His plan did not include his wife.

"And I don't care what you want! If it's being hurt, I might be able to help it. My knowledge of exobiology far exceeds Owen's, no offense, Owen. I'm not going to sit around here twiddling my thumbs when I could actually be useful for a change!" She was standing up, her cheeks red with fury, pointing her finger in Jack's general direction as the rest of them looked uncomfortable.

"Maybe we should all calm down, yeah?" Gwen offered when it looked like Jack was going to continue with his own shouting.

They both snapped their attention to her, ordering in the same breath, "Not now, Gwen."

Their unintended duet was enough of an oddity to distract them, giving Owen a window of opportunity to take charge. He raised his voice enough so everyone would listen.

"Shit, you two are both being unreasonable! Jack, if you know a specific reason why she shouldn't come, speak now or forever hold your peace, mate. And Melissa, you can come as backup and stay in the car until the place is cleared. Then, if you think you can help this creature, you can do whatever you want. But you took yourself off field work after your stroke, and I don't see any reason to suddenly reinstate you, agreed?"

She looked down, suddenly ashamed of her behavior. "Agreed," she answered quietly.

"Jack?" Owen challenged.

He looked straight at his wife and implored her. "Please don't."

"I have to try to help." She almost changed her mind then and there. She could feel his anxiety from across the room, but she couldn't just sit around and do nothing when she might be able to ease the creature's suffering.

Defeated, Jack looked dejectedly at Owen. "Agreed."

Once the briefing was over, they both filed quickly out of the room, going their separate ways. Ianto and Gwen went to the armory to retrieve the powerful tranquilizers Jack had requested, leaving Tosh and Owen alone in the conference room. Owen was sitting with his head bowed, and didn't register Toshiko's presence until she began to rub his neck.

"You did the right thing. Neither one of them was being rational just then." He slowly relaxed as she continued to rub his neck.

"They should both be on leave," he argued. "Jack's been affected by this as much as she has."

Pressing a kiss against his cheek, she agreed. "We all have, but the Rift and aliens don't seem to care. They'll be fine, Owen."

He pulled her against him, giving her a long, harsh kiss before replying. "Then why do I have this feeling it's all about to go to shit?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sitting impatiently in the SUV, Melissa listened to Jack, Owen, Ianto and Gwen approach the warehouse under the cover of night. Everything seemed to be going well until she heard the unmistakable sounds of barking dogs and automatic gunfire. Tosh was shouting through the comms, demanding a report, but no one was paying attention to her in the chaos of the firefight.

Suddenly, Melissa felt Jack's death, and bolted out of the vehicle moments before being violently sick on the ground. She could hear Ianto's shouts that Jack was down, and she hoped he had been killed by gunshot rather than dog. Then, she heard Gwen's screams of pain, and Owen's desperate shots to get the dogs off of her. It was the ensuing silence that scared her the most.

Detaching her mind from her emotions, she grabbed a gun from the back of the SUV and slowly made her way towards the warehouse, carefully staying in the shadows. As she used the sonic screwdriver to open one of the doors, she could hear several voices speaking urgently about twenty feet away from her. Slowly, she slipped inside, setting the screwdriver to a frequency that caused the dogs to run away, howling in pain.

The commotion distracted the group long enough that she was able to run past them unnoticed. Cautiously, she moved farther into the warehouse, wary of other voices in the distance. Following a trail of blood to an interior room, she met her first target guarding the door.

Changing the setting to her screwdriver, she crept silently behind him and pressed the device to his left ear. The man gave a horrible scream and collapsed, clutching his head. Unhappy with the result, she tweaked the setting as she pressed herself against the wall, hoping that the man's short cry had not alerted anyone nearby.

Holding an automatic in her left hand, she eased open the door, ready to shoot any adversaries she might encounter. But Owen and Gwen were the only people in the room. Dispassionately, she watched Owen press his shirt against Gwen's bloody arm before announcing herself.

"How bad is it?" she asked softly, maintaining an eye on the open door.

Owen startled, not having heard her enter. "Bad enough," he reported as he wrapped some duct tape found in the office tightly around his shirt, creating a very crude bandage for Gwen's worst injuries. "Gwen's in shock; we need to get her out of here. Jack was killed, and Ianto was shot, but they took him somewhere else, so I have no idea how badly he's injured."

"Stay here," Melissa ordered, handing him her gun. "I'll find the others."

Kneeling for a moment in front of Gwen, Melissa removed her coat and draped it over the injured woman. "Hang in there, Gwen," she urged, "You've spent way too much on that wedding of yours to miss it. We're going to get you out of here soon, okay?"

Dumbly, Gwen nodded, barely conscious. Giving Owen a reassuring pat on the back, she swept out of the office and continued farther into the warehouse.

Pressing the sonic screwdriver against the next armed man she met, he went down without a scream, blood pouring out of his ears as he fell dead to the floor. "Better," she muttered as she picked up his gun and continued down the dimly lit hallway towards another interior room.

This time, the room was visible to the hallway through several large windows, and Melissa took a moment in the shadows to assess the situation. There were three armed men standing near Ianto, who was kneeling on the concrete floor. His face was bruised and bloody, but he still looked defiant as the burliest man stomped on his back.

His mistreatment ignited her anger, and she burst into the room, shooting his captors neatly in the forehead with three quick shots. She rushed to his side even as they fell.

"Owen said you were shot." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a very sharp knife, cutting the rope that bound his hands.

Rubbing his wrists, Ianto ruefully assessed his injuries. "I won't be sitting for a while, but I can manage to walk."

She smiled at his ability to joke at the most dangerous of situations. "Good." Quickly, they exited the room. The sound of the gunshots would have alerted everyone else in the building, and it was time to find some cover. She led the Welshman to a hiding place behind a cargo container and watched as six men raced to the room they had just vacated.

Wishing she were tall enough to sneak up behind them and snap their necks, she assessed her options as Ianto stood uneasily behind her. Coming to a rash decision, she motioned for the archivist to stay where he was as she stepped boldly out into the open.

"Looking for someone?" she taunted loudly, trying to get their attention.

As the men turned towards the sound of her voice, she shot three dead before they had time to face her completely. Without pausing, she hurled the now empty gun at a fourth man, who ducked instinctively. It gave her an instant to hurl the knife deep into the neck of the fifth. He made no sound as he dropped.

Seconds had passed, however, giving the two remaining men ample opportunity to fire their weapons. As they fired, she dived, and whether from faster reflexes or the gunmen's poor aim, the bullets went wide. Ianto had managed to pick up a gun, and without thinking, threw it to her. Catching it deftly in her left hand, she fired at the gunman on her left side, who fell senseless to the floor. Before she could turn her attention to the her final adversary, however, there was an explosive concussion next to her. She stiffened instinctually, waiting for the pain to begin.

"You could at least say thank you." Jack quipped as he watched his wife stand motionless amid the carnage she had largely created.

Dumbstruck, she turned toward his voice, seeing the last gunman lying dead on the floor, blood pooling by his side. Scarcely comprehending, she at last looked at Jack, who was smiling at the far side of the room. His shirt had a large, bloody hole in it, but otherwise he looked fine.

"Thank you," she stammered, her body finally protesting against the amount of stress she had just subjected herself to. She was shaking, and felt faint, but ruthlessly shoved those complaints aside as she smiled dangerously at her husband. "Your shirt's ruined, but at least it wasn't the dogs."

Speaking of the dogs reminded her of Gwen, and her smile evaporated. "Gwen needs to get to a hospital as soon as possible; she's bleeding out and in shock. I'll take care of the creature while the rest of you get her and Ianto some help."

Jack looked like he was going to protest, but thought better of it. If his wife thought Gwen needed immediate medical attention, then it was vital that he not waste time arguing. And, she wouldn't have mentioned Ianto in the same sentence if she didn't think his wounds were worse than he let on. Damn, he wasn't going to be able to stay with her.

Impatiently, she added, "Gwen's in the first office off the interior hallway. Owen's with her. Move, Jack."

Helping Ianto, who was beginning to be somewhat unsteady on his feet, Jack left her to face the gigantic creature alone in the dim, cavernous warehouse.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Cautiously, Melissa approached the huge alien who took up most of the empty space in the warehouse. She began to gag as she smelled the pervasive scent of rotting flesh, but finally controlled her reflex with a massive amount of willpower. Walking closer, she saw the large wound on the side of the creature, and realized with sick horror that the humans had been taking meat from a living being who was trying vainly to regenerate its flesh, but the wound was simply too massive.

She gazed into the alien's eye and saw a level of intelligence that made her weep. Hesitantly, she placed both hands as close as she could to the being's head and opened her mind. Images of captivity flooded her. The men had caught the Behmth shortly after it had been ripped from its family pod by the Rift. Only a child, it was the size of an elephant when it was taken from the North Sea and smuggled to a warehouse outside of Cardiff, where it continued to grow rapidly. One of its captors had accidently sliced a chunk out of its tail while trying to move it, and they had all been amazed at the beast's regenerative powers when it healed overnight. Afterwards, they began to cut out chunks of the child, selling its flesh at a handsome profit as ground beef, but still the Behmth healed and grew, until they made the cuts large enough that it was no longer able to regenerate itself in one night.

Melissa poured sympathy into the captive's consciousness, explaining that not all humans treated life so callously. She explained who she was, and was shocked that the child knew the legends of her planet and people. It begged her to help, to take the pain away and to end its captivity.

Teary-eyed, she explained that she was trapped on this world just as much as the Behmth. She could not take it home. Would it like to live free in the oceans of this world? Food was plentiful, and the waters vast.

But where were those like itself, the child wanted to know.

None in these oceans are like you, she admitted sadly. They are not as evolved or as intelligent. You would be alone, she confessed in its mind, but you would be alive and free.

Sensing the child's anger and grief, Melissa stepped away from the Behmth just as it started to thrash about. She had seen its decision, but didn't have stomach to carry it out. How could she kill something so much like herself? The former captive had other ideas, however, and was intent on injuring itself. Unfortunately, Melissa was still in its way.

Jack felt his wife's distress as he strapped Gwen into the back seat of the SUV. Owen had already called ahead so that several pints of blood would be waiting for their arrival. Ianto seemed to be faring better, but he most likely had some internal injuries from the beating he had taken at the hands of his captors. The Captain had found several boot marks on the Welshman's back near his left kidney.

His loyalties suddenly divided, Jack made a decision. Strapping Ianto into the seat next to Gwen, he ordered, "Keep the pressure on her arm. I've got to go." Yelling in Owen's direction, he swiftly explained. "Melissa's in trouble. You get them to hospital. Have Tosh pick us up."

Owen was too busy to do much more than acknowledge Jack's announcement with a vehement, "Shit," but he placed the call to Tosh as he jumped into the driver's seat and floored the gas on the SUV. Gwen was his priority at the moment, and he could only hope that Jack could handle whatever new crisis was brewing by himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Continuing to back away, Melissa watched the Behmth buck and slam itself down on the hard concrete ground in an effort to mortally injure itself. It was a futile attempt, but the child refused to acknowledge the reality of its situation. Extremely reluctant, the Time Lord nevertheless began to prepare a lethal dose of tranquillizers to fulfill the being's wishes.

Cautiously, she approached the alien, and it stilled as it understood her intent. Stroking its leathery skin, she murmured apologies as she sunk the enormous needle into its flesh. As she felt its life force slowly seep away, the enormity of her actions suddenly hit her. Her body rebelled and she vomited violently, sinking to her knees as she could no longer support her own weight. Still she continued to be sick, her mind dwelling on the child's cruel captivity and regenerative ability. She was dizzy, sweating and retching bile by the time Jack reached her.

Anguished, he wrapped his arms around her, trying to calm her mind as he painfully remembered his own reaction to the original death of this creature. His own empathy with the alien's suffering after a year of torture and death at the hands of the Master had been bad enough; he could not imagine his wife's reaction. The alien regenerated its flesh; she would have empathized with it immediately.

Her memories assaulted him, and it was all he could do to still his own stomach when he realized that the creature had been sentient and barely an adolescent of its species. She had killed it, and she was horrified, completely unable rationalize her actions, the turmoil in her mind manifesting itself in her bodily reactions.

"You've got to stop! It wasn't your fault. You didn't capture it! You didn't cut it up for meat! You just put it out of its misery!" Jack was frantic. Her pulse was erratic, her breathing was now ragged, and still she retched.

Her mind was worse—a swirling torrent of conflicting thoughts and a guilt so strong that he could not stand to be inside it for more than a few minutes at a time. And still it worsened. Desperate, he slapped her hard on the cheek, hoping to break her out of her hysteria.

Surprisingly, it worked. Dully, she looked at him, her eyes haunted. "I killed a child."

"I know," he responded simply, his entire being filled with forgiveness and understanding. "I know." He stroked her drenched hair as he waited for what seemed like an eternity for Tosh to arrive. Melissa was resting, too tired even to move, but Jack could feel her mind slowly calm, although forgiveness was still far away.


	43. You Should Have Told Us

Author's notes - Thanks to dwatlaskrhtcm and padmay97 yet again for the reviews. I'm glad they're enjoying it, and hope the rest of you are as well. This chapter begins where the last one ended. Tosh has just picked up Jack and Melissa from the warehouse and brought them back to the Hub.

* * *

><p>Jack had had about enough. The Captain's voice began to resemble granite as he spoke to Owen over the phone.<p>

"No, I'm not going to insist on a full body scan. She's been adamant from the start about not being poked and prodded, and she definitely doesn't need it today."

Listening to the doctor harangue him for a few more minutes, Jack began to lose his cool. Scathingly, he argued, "Damn it, Owen, I do know what post traumatic stress is!" Abruptly he added, "Yes, I'm sure she does, but putting a name to something isn't going to automatically fix it. It's not like you can give her a pill to make it all better."

He listened for a few more minutes, sadness replacing his earlier hostility. "I've tried talking to her. I'm going to try again." Softly, he concluded, "Yeah, I'll let you know. Tell Gwen and Ianto I'll be by later." "Thanks, Owen." Momentarily weary, he put his head on his desk.

Finally going downstairs to check on his wife, he was relieved to find her sitting quietly next to Tosh, sipping a cup of tea. The computer expert was smiling hesitantly, explaining something about the Rift monitor that he didn't care to understand. It seemed to hold Melissa's attention, however.

As he approached, Tosh excused herself to give them some privacy.

"Just got off the phone with Owen. Gwen and Ianto are going to be fine."

"That's good," she answered, and meant it. She couldn't handle any more deaths on her conscience after the Behmth.

"I've got a few more calls to make before we can go. UNIT's going to torch the alien in the warehouse to take care of the evidence, so we'll be out of here in a few minutes."

He watched her carefully for any negative reaction, but she gave no outward indication of distress. Nor did she ask about the remains of the nine men she had killed; they too, would be burnt in the warehouse fire. In fact, she gave no reaction at all. "Melissa?"

She stared up at him, her eyes full of grief and self-recrimination. "Remind me to listen the next time you ask me not to do something."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey, Dad, you're home early." Matt watched from the dining room table as Jack poured himself a cup of cold coffee and zapped it in the microwave.

"Boring night. Where's your mom?" Sipping the coffee, Jack made a face. Susan must have made it; it was strong enough to resemble tar in its blackness. Too bad Ianto hadn't bothered to give her lessons. "Where's your sister for that matter?"

Matthew shrugged and closed his laptop. "Susan's with Ianto. I think they're at his place. Mom's asleep."

Sitting opposite his son, Jack raised his eyebrows. "It's only nine. You sure she's not reading?"

"She kept nodding off while we were playing chess. She said she was going to bed." Watching his father's reaction, Matthew hesitantly asked, "Is something bothering her? For weeks she's been acting . . . sad. And quiet. And, well, it reminds me of how she was right after my dad died."

Gripping his coffee cup, Jack offered, "I don't mind you talking about your dad, you know. I know he must have been a great guy; after all, he helped raise two great kids."

"Yeah, sometimes I wish I could talk about Dad, but-Hey! You're trying to change the subject."

He grinned as he took a gulp of coffee. "Maybe, and maybe you should be asking your mother if something's bothering her, and not me."

"I did. That's when she told me she was tired and going to bed. I told her maybe she wouldn't be so tired if she actually ate dinner once in a while, but she completely ignored me. Setting up the chess pieces, he asked, "Want to play? Mom actually lost tonight; I think she slept through half the game."

"Sure." As he moved a pawn, he nonchalantly interrogated his son. "So, how early has your mother been going to bed lately?"

"Around seven. Pretty much as soon as she says hello." Barely concentrating on the opening moves, he added bitterly, "Which leaves me alone most nights, 'cause Sue's always sneaking off to Ianto's and coming back before you get in."

Jack digested the information as he played. Melissa had been helping Tosh for the last three days after the sensitive computer expert had sent the young Tommy Brockless back to World War I to ultimately face execution for shell shock. He had hoped that in helping Tosh, his wife might help herself. However, she didn't seem to be getting any better, and the fact that she hadn't been eating at the house was worrying. In the past few weeks, she had dropped weight at an alarming rate, looking practically gaunt. Owen had been muttering about eating disorders for the last few days, and now it looked like Jack wasn't going to be able to disregard the evidence much longer.

"Checkmate." Matthew's pronouncement broke Jack's reverie.

"You're definitely better than I was at your age," he graciously acknowledged.

"Nah, you were almost as distracted as Mom." Putting up the game, the teen announced, "There's a party tonight at Roderick's house; his parents are out of town. I told him I was busy, but think I've changed my mind. This house is getting kinda claustrophobic. I promise to be back before two, okay?"

Jack gave him the look, and Matthew hastily added, "I know, I know; don't drink too much; no drugs, don't get arrested, and use a condom if I'm going to have sex. I'm not entirely stupid."

"Never said you were." He handed the teen his car keys. "If you're going home that late; you'd better drive. You would not believe what comes out of the woodwork in Cardiff at that hour."

"Thanks, Dad." Grabbing his jacket, Matthew gave a grateful wave and left, leaving Jack no alternative but to confront Melissa.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Quietly opening the door, he was momentarily surprised when the shaft of light from the hallway showed the bed to be empty. The sounds coming from the bathroom were unmistakable, however, and he rushed into the small room intending to demand that she get some professional help. All thoughts of anorexia or bulemia evaporated as he felt her terror and distress. She dry heaved repeatedly into the toilet, thick yellow bile dripping from her mouth, her body trembling, sweat beading on her face and neck. Grabbing her arms, he supported her until she finally stopped retching.

"Thanks," she whispered weakly as he wiped her face with a warm washcloth. Her entire body was chilled, and he could still feel her shaking, although her fear was rapidly being replaced by exhaustion.

Leaving her momentarily on the floor, he grabbed a pair of her flannel pajamas from the bedroom. After he had cleaned her up, he quickly changed her clothes and carried her to bed. Piling on some blankets and propping her up with a few pillows, he helped her sip some water before lying down next to her.

Tucking her next to him, he tried to keep the fear out of his voice. "What's the matter?"

Feeling his warmth sink into her skin, she admitted sleepily, "Nightmare. Over now."

He could feel her growing contentment as well as her increasing fatigue, so he decided not to press her for explanations. She was asleep within ten minutes, her breathing slow and steady, her body curled against his. For Jack, however, sleep would not come, and he spent the entire night worrying and watching her fret as she dozed.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Melissa woke as she had for the past five weeks, disoriented and more than slightly nauseous. It took her only a few seconds to remember where she was and why she felt like she had been hit by a lorry. She really was going to have to be more sympathetic the next time Susan and Matthew came down with the flu. Gradually opening her eyes, she was surprised to see Jack gazing fondly at her.

"Morning," she mumbled as she slammed down her mental defenses.

"Hey." He kissed her tenderly on the forehead, trying not to wince as he felt her close herself from him yet again. At least this time, he had been paying attention as she woke, so he knew she was still feeling just as poorly as she had been last night. No wonder she was losing so much weight. "Would anything help?"

Closing her eyes briefly, she wished he wasn't so perceptive. "Tea, thanks."

Drifting lazily between sleep and wakefulness, she wondered how long she could keep the truth from him and if there was any good reason to continue to do so. She wasn't supposed to be sick like this, had never been sick like this before, not even with the twins.

There was still a chance that her problem would just go away. No Time Lord had ever carried a half-breed child to term, nor had many been tempted to try as far as she knew. Fraternization with the lesser species was a cultural taboo that had been in effect even at the beginning of the Time War. She often wondered if that was one of the reasons why they had lost. Maybe it was a good thing, though. Maybe she wouldn't have to burden Jack at all. She just wished she didn't feel so utterly tired and miserable in the meantime.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

By the time Jack had spent a few minutes in the kitchen talking to Susan and Matthew and asking about their plans for the weekend, she had fallen back asleep. He put the tea by her side of the bed, and debated whether or not he should wake her. The buzzing of her alarm clock took the decision away from him.

Groaning in protest, she sat up, startled to see Jack sitting next to her until she remembered the tea. She took several long sips, letting the warmth and the tannins settle her stomach somewhat.

"Why don't you go back to sleep? I'll stay with you."

His eyes were filled with love and concern, and she bitterly regretted the fact that in keeping her defenses up, she could not feel his soothing mental touch. The offer was quite tempting, but she had commitments.

"I'm supposed to meet Rose today." She protested weakly, wishing she could simply go back to sleep.

"You can see her next month." As if sensing her arguments, he added quietly, "No one can be perfect all the time, not even you."

She was really too tired to put up much of a protest. Finishing her tea, she nodded gratefully, letting her head sink back into the soft pillow. Jack watched her for a moment before tossing his clothes on the chair and sliding into bed next to her. Holding her protectively in his arms, he wondered what was wrong, and how long it would take for her to tell him.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

_He was mocking her, except the drugs coursing through her bloodstream weren't allowing her to hear his actual taunts. In that tiny part of her mind that was still completely hers, she cursed herself for ignoring her instincts and trusting him. One drink before the commemoration ceremony, indeed. Vainly, she tried to call out to her bond mate, to warn him, to beg him to rescue her, but her thoughts were too sluggish. That Bastard was blocking everything, even him._

_As she felt the insidious touch of his mind and began to experience an unwilling orgasm, she realized with a sick lurch that the Bastard was trying to force a bond on her. He was worming his way ever closer to her center as her defenses slowly dissolved. She begged, pleaded, threatened and cajoled, all for naught. Very soon, the coward would find that she was already claimed, saving her from a lifetime of slavery to his madness. Yet, if the Bastard found out that she and her beloved shared a forbidden bond long before their mating ceremony, then they would be forever at his mercy. She could not, would not, let that happen. With every ounce of will, she fought against him, forcing herself to be sick again and again in order to clear her mind enough to defend herself. The stupid Bastard hadn't even bothered to tie her up. Focused on the mental attack, he never expected the vicious kick to his groin. Suddenly free, she ran._

"Melissa! Wake up!"

Trapped in her nightmare, Jack pulled her away from the terror that held her captive in her subconscious. Abruptly waking, her eyes popped open and she began to heave violently, spewing tea and bile all over the bed, then continuing to gag when nothing more would come out. She collapsed against him, her eyes filled with tears, her breathing ragged. Soon, she started to cry, quietly at first, and then louder, until her sobs wracked her body and filled the room.

After almost a half hour, her crying slowed and ultimately stopped. He held her the entire time, letting her sob into his chest as he reassuringly patted her back. There were several long minutes of silence, punctuated only by her sniffles. She then looked up, and tried to smile, but it turned into a frown.

"I ruined the duvet."

He dismissed her concern with a brief hug. His voice full of apprehension, he spoke softly. "I felt your nightmare. You remember what happened to you?"

Vehemently, she corrected his assumption. "No. That sick Bastard tried that when I was sixteen, and I gave as good as I got."

He held her tightly against him, his anger at her attacker barely held in check. An awful thought formed in his mind. "A Time Lord did this to you?"

She tensed, but remained silent. It was all the answer he needed. His gut clenched as he put the pieces together. That bastard-if he wasn't already dead by Lucy's hand, he would kill him very slowly just to see him suffer.

"Don't let him make you sick. He can't hurt you anymore." He hated that she had been forcibly reminded of that psychopath.

"How can you be so nice to me when I've been so awful? I'm so stupid. Can't even block a few bad memories anymore. I'm completely dense and unreliable and have to rely on a watch of all the stupid things, and I'm definitely not Time Lord material anymore. I don't know what I am, but I'm not worth the trouble-"

He stopped her right there with a kiss, not wanting her to descend into self-pity, hoping that her willingness to talk would not vanish as quickly as her smile had. "You're my wife and the woman I love, and right now you have breath worse than Shakespeare's."

She snorted at that, but there was another brief glimpse of a smile, so he pressed onwards. "If you brush your teeth, I may even kiss you again. How about it?"

She smiled brilliantly, her mood changing in an instant. "Is that a promise?"

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Nine weeks, Melissa thought grimly as she drove into the Tower for her meeting with Rose. Nine weeks of hell, trying not to be too obviously sick as her nausea only seemed to increase with each day. Nine weeks of hiding from Jack the reason for her tears.

She hadn't even been well enough to see Rose the month before, although Tommy Brockless had given her the perfect excuse to miss it. Poor Tosh, at least she seemed happy enough with Owen, especially now that they were living together. No Bridezilla shenanigans for them; although, she had to admit that Gwen was being nicer to her than she ever had been. Probably out of pity, she thought darkly, letting her anxiety briefly surface.

They'd all pity her soon. Even after being sick enough to lose ten pounds in the last two months, she still couldn't begin to button her trousers that morning. It looked like the child was going to thrive after all.

Locking her car, she barely made it to the Traitor's Gate before being wrapped in an enthusiastic welcoming hug by Rose. "Missed seeing you last month!"

Like a hammer blow, what Melissa had hidden away before taking the retcon two months past suddenly assaulted her. Staggering backwards, her face drained of all color as she tried to integrate the new memories. She would have fallen if Rose hadn't reached out and grabbed her.

"You alright? Maybe you shouldn't have come. I hear the first trimester can be really tough. Isn't Jack taking care of you?"

With a lurch, the pregnant Time Lord was brought back to the present. "You know," she accused in wonder, her released memories leaving a happy glow on her face.

"Told you your timelines were all tangled! Couldn't say anything more, though; wouldn't want to mess with a causal nexus!" Rose grinned, her tongue sticking slightly out of her teeth.

Grinning back, Melissa allowed herself to bask in her newfound happiness. "Just morning sickness. I feel about as bad as I look, but it's definitely worth it."

"You sure you're alright?" Rose had her doubts, seeing her friend's face pale and drawn, her hands noticeably trembling.

Not quite alright, she sank onto a nearby bench. "Maybe you could get me something to eat? I'm sure I'll be fine in a few minutes."

Glad to be able to help, Rose sprinted off towards a gift shop, looking for biscuits. Taking a deep breath, Melissa relived her incredible union with Jack, scarcely daring to believe it. Tears ran unchecked down her face as she remembered his joy when she had announced her pregnancy, but there was only a frustrating gap of nothingness after that. The story of what else had happened that day in the Hub would forever remain a mystery. But, considering what she now knew, she thought she could live with the rest rather easily.

By the time Rose returned, Melissa had managed to gain some semblance of normalcy, and gratefully ate the package of ginger biscuits. Rose began to chatter away about Donna and the progress of the time machine, but she scarcely heard. She was too caught up in her own thoughts to pay much attention, although she managed to nod at the right intervals.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Once Rose had returned to her own universe, Melissa nervously approached the TARDIS. The ship was going to be moved next month to a location outside of London, to protect the project in case Christmas did not go well. She tried not to dwell on that possibility as she opened the door. The light was dim, but still present, and she could feel the old girl reach out to her as she entered.

Suddenly, she could hear the beautiful song of the ship as it touched the essence of her child and rejoiced. It only lasted a few minutes, but it made her hearts soar. Carefully, she entered the corridors, noting sadly that whole sections of the interior had already disappeared.

Making her way to the Doctor's bedroom, she hesitated at the doorway, but finally walked inside. His room was much as she had imagined, masculine and untidy, but it was easy to find what she was looking for in the bottom drawer of his wardrobe. Somehow, she was not surprised that he had kept it, although the sight of it brought tears to her eyes.

Almost out the main door, she stopped abruptly when she heard a voice speaking behind her.

"This is an emergency program, and if you're hearing this, my Dear, it means that I have been most foolish with my life. I suppose I should be grateful that the Council has let you hear this at all, but their fight has never been with you."

An old gentleman with silver hair and an aristocratic nose stood smiling sheepishly behind her. He was wearing a frocked coat, and stood slightly stooped, but his eyes were lively and mischievous. Involuntarily, her hand flew to her mouth as a gasp escaped her. His eyes looked so young. Raptly, she listened to his voice.

"Now, Em, this message is much too brief to say what needs to be said, so I'll start with the most important, Susan. She's safe and well; fell in love with a human, believe it or not. I left her with him-nice young man, David. I promised to return for her, but if you're hearing this, I wasn't able to. She's on Earth, twenty-second century London. Oh, you should go to London, if you can. It's a very nice city."

Sadness seemed to cloud his features for a moment, but he continued. "I missed you, you know. Susan missed you. Not taking you with us was my one regret, and I'm sorry, for so much, my Dear. I hope that wherever you are, you are happy. Live your life and be happy. I have always loved you. Good luck, Em. Tell Susan I shall miss her."

The voice stopped and the figure slowly disappeared. As it did, the TARDIS dimmed further, although it left her a gift from the wardrobe by the door. Clutching the sack and the small baby blanket she had taken, Melissa stepped shakily outside, her mind in turmoil. Without realizing what she was doing, she placed the bag and memento in her car and began to walk.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Much, much later, she found herself walking outside of a familiar house in Ealing. The house was dark and the yard overgrown with two months of neglect. She scarcely understood why she was there, but had little time to contemplate the direction her feet had taken her before she heard a screech of tires, and watched, stupefied, as a vehicle gunned towards her.

At the last moment, she managed to shake herself out of her inaction and step to the side. In doing so, the car hit the stone fence first, slowing it significantly before it clipped her right leg, sending her crashing to the ground. Stunned, she looked up, expecting to see a concerned motorist run out of the vehicle, but the sight before her merely added to her distress.

Above her towered an angry, skinny man, who even then was unzipping his forehead to expose the Slitheen hiding inside. Its claws were almost free, and Melissa knew with certainty that it meant to kill her. Hysterical laughter bubbled to the surface, and the only rational thought left in her head was that death by Slitheen was a most undignified way to go.

The pain in her knee was making her dizzy, and standing, much less running was impossible. Pulling her mobile out of her coat pocket, she pressed its panic button. Then, dropping her head back to the driveway, she decided that she did not want to watch the criminal as he killed her. Spent, she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack, Owen and Ianto were enjoying an atypical day in the Hub. The Rift was being nice and quiet, and the women were elsewhere. Gwen was having yet another fitting. She was also choosing the bridesmaids' dresses, a touchy subject since she hadn't bothered to invite Tosh or Melissa into the wedding party. Jack had given Tosh the day off, not wanting to see her mope around with a false smile on her face as she wondered why she'd been excluded. So, Toshiko had decided to make an appointment at the local spa, but Melissa had been forced to decline the invitation to join her. She'd already missed one visit with Rose; she couldn't skip another.

Around three, the Captain ended all pretense of work and broke out the beers. The men sat in his office, relaxing, enjoying easy banter and discussing a wide range of matters that no one, except Jack, would have felt comfortable discussing in mixed company.

"I've worked for Torchwood off and on for well over a century," Jack began, changing the topic from sexual fantasies to a more reality based discussion. "And I've got to tell you, I've never seen it quite so domestic, not that I'm complaining."

"That's entirely your fault, Captain," Owen replied easily, finishing his third beer. "Or I should say your wife's. She really has your ass whipped, and we all know it. Not that we're complaining."

"Melissa is something else," Jack allowed graciously, pleased that the team had stopped treating her with kid gloves.

They drank their beers in comfortable silence before Owen made an observation. "You know, you need to find a girl for your son, Jack. You might not have to fetch him from lock-up on the weekends if he can settle a little."

The doctor smirked, thinking of the call Jack had received the past Saturday night when Matthew had been arrested for disorderly conduct due to excessive drinking at a very boisterous house party. When the police had realized he was Jack's son, they had teased the Captain mercilessly. Every time he met one of them on the street, the PC's asked Jack if the boy had been attacked by an alien beer keg.

"Maybe he'd rather a boy his own age, Owen," Ianto countered.

That got Jack's attention. "Has he seemed interested, Ianto?"

"He's your son, Jack. I think he's interested in anything that moves. Although, I admit he seems much more taken with a nice pair of breasts than a tight ass." The Welshman wondered yet again how much of Jack's past sexual exploits were based on cultural upbringing rather than personal preferences. Ever since Melissa's arrival, his boss had been happily monogamous.

"He's gone through a string of girls. I don't think he's ready to settle down just yet. He's having too much fun sampling."

Jack grinned, thinking of his own experiences at that age. By then, he had been enrolled in the Time Agency for training, and sex with a wide variety of people, humans as well as aliens, had been expected and encouraged. It had been a fun, if shallow, time in his life, and he had no regrets about his own sexual history. Matthew deserved a little freedom; he would learn that a relationship was more satisfying than recreation eventually.

Owen chose that moment to gripe about his own domestic issues, since he would never admit how happy he actually was to anyone but Tosh. Ianto listened quietly, not exactly comfortable speaking of his own relationship with Susan. He would need to soon, however. It seemed surreal to think of asking her to move in with him, but if he was honest with himself, she spent more time at his home than hers, especially since Melissa's attack.

Half listening to the conversation, Jack suddenly felt like something was very wrong, although he couldn't decide what it was. Ignoring Owen, he abruptly got up to check the Rift monitor, but found everything quiet in the Hub. Still, the feeling persisted.

"Something got you spooked?" Ianto had trailed behind, following Jack to the workstations. Owen joined them at a more leisurely pace, a beer in hand.

"The Rift's quiet," Jack responded with a sheepish grin. Yet, he practically jumped when an alarm began to sound.

"That's Melissa's personal alarm." Frantically, he checked the computer and input the coordinates into his Vortex Manipulator. Teleporting instantly, he left Owen and Ianto alone in the Hub.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Flashing into existence a few feet away from an angry Slitheen, Jack had little time for the luxury of surprise. The alien had already unsuited and was preparing to attack. Picking up one of the heavy stones that had been knocked loose by the car, he hurled it at the towering creature.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

Turning, the Slitheen did just that. Firing his Webley at the hunter proved ineffective, and Jack was forced to run. As he started to move, he saw a silent witness across the street, and called out. "Could use a little help here! Vinegar's toxic to it! Grab what you can!" Not waiting to see if the man had complied, he ran, leading the Slitheen on a tense chase for several minutes before heading back towards the house and his one chance. The burly alien would soon outpace him.

As the Captain ran past the house, the hunter trailing mere inches behind, the man flung a bucketful of vinegar towards them, causing the Slitheen to explode in a puddle of green slime. Wiping the worst of it off his face, Jack thanked his rescuer. "Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your fondness for vinegar at the moment."

"Alan Jackson," the man answered distractedly, looking dazedly at the green goo on his clothes. "That was an alien," he announced solemnly, as if Jack had not been aware of the fact.

"A particularly nasty one," the Captain agreed while jogging briskly across the street to check on his wife. She was completely motionless, and he could not tell at that distance if she was even breathing. The smashed car and stone fence not three feet away told their own damning story, and he wondered why no one else had bothered to venture from their home after hearing what must have been a loud and violent collision.

Grimly, he bent down to examine her, expecting the worst. As he touched her shoulder, however, she began to groan, and slowly lifted her head to protest. "You would not believe the day I'm having."

"I probably could," he answered with a grin. She was hurt; that much was evident by the careful way she was trying to move, but she sounded so put out by it that it was almost funny.

"Maybe you could at that." She grinned back, ending her sentence with a cry when she accidentally jostled her leg.

"I'll call 999," Alan Jackson offered, surprising Jack, who had completely forgotten he was present.

"No," they both protested in unison, and then Melissa glanced at Jack and began to laugh until the pain from her injuries forced her to stop.

"I'll take her to her personal physician. She's probably just bruised. Why waste all that time in A&E?" Dismissing Mr. Jackson, Jack prepared to teleport back to the Hub, Melissa in tow.

Alan Jackson slowly backed away, shaking his head, wondering why Sarah Jane Smith seemed to attract all the loons, even in death.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"I can't travel the way you came, Jack." Melissa watched in alarm as he input coordinates in his wrist computer. Seeing the question in his eyes, she hastily tried to explain. "I think my left wrist may be broken. A hop like that isn't going to help it."

He almost argued with her, but something in her expression stopped him. Maybe her injuries were worse than he thought. He knew as well as she that a broken wrist was not a valid reason to avoid the teleport. "If you're sure," he acknowledged doubtfully.

"Just help me stand."

Carefully, he pulled her upright by her armpits, letting her lean against him when it became apparent that she couldn't stand by herself. Dizzy once again, her stomach emptied its contents on the ground in front of her as her body started to wobble.

Grabbing her to stop her fall, he held her close, surprised to feel heat radiating from her body. Leaning against him, she began to babble happily. "Lost another lunch. I think I shall blame you, you know. Rose and I had fish and chips at a decent stand outside of the Tower. Well, Rose had fish and chips. Mostly, I picked. Still not feeling like eating much. That girl really likes her chips, though; gets some every time she's here. Doesn't really help her, because I'm not sure she's slept since this started. I wonder how long it's been for her, but I'm afraid to ask. She knows too much. I'm afraid to ask her anything. She just might tell me. She told me before, you know, just a little too oblique to understand. And then that crack about a causal nexus. If she knew what I'd gone through, I think I would have slapped that little smile off her face. You know, Jack, that one where her tongue pokes out between her teeth?"

He interrupted her, not understanding more than a tenth of her prattle. "Are you okay?"

She smiled dazedly up at him. "Perfectly perfect! Although, it would be better if I could walk, and I hurt everywhere, and my lips are really dry, and my head is throbbing, and maybe, if I gave you the screwdriver, you could open the door and I could lie down for a few minutes? I don't think Sarah Jane would mind. Her house is very nice and currently empty. It is empty, isn't it, Jack? I think I came here for a reason, but my mind's so full of other things, I can't really remember. It feels so sad to be here without her. It's my fault she's dead, you know. It was supposed to be me at Royal Hope, but the Brigadier didn't trust my skills after seeing me at the house."

Trailing off, she sagged against his chest.

That decided it; she was definitely not okay. Although, he had to admit her babbling was a welcome relief from the moody, withdrawn woman he had been living with for the past two months. Scooping her up, he apologized as the pain in her knee flared. He had the front door open in a few seconds, and carefully deposited her onto the blue couch in the living room.

Sarah Jane's house already had a musty feel to it after two months of disuse, and the fine layer of dust on the furniture and the dead plants only added to the bleak atmosphere. It was not a place Jack would have chosen to let Melissa rest, but it was convenient. Quickly finding the kitchen, he searched the cabinets until he found two glasses, and ran the tap for a few seconds before filling them with water. Running from the Slitheen under the unusually blazing sun had made him thirsty, and he figured Melissa must be as well. Knowing better than to open the refrigerator, he glanced at the pantry hoping to find a little something for them to eat, but it was distressingly empty.

Returning to her, he held out the full glass of water, and watched in concern as she gulped it down in just a few seconds. Intently, he studied her face, noting the flush on her cheeks and her cracked and bleeding lips. He saw, therefore, the instant she turned a sickly green, and was able to jump out of the way just as her stomach rejected the liquid.

"Too fast," she apologized, and he handed her his own glass. Shakily, she began to sip the water at a deliberately slow pace, but it didn't help. Retching again, her entire body began to tremble.

Troubled, he took the back of her right hand and pinched the skin. It stayed tented for a long second before slowly sinking back down. Quickly, he undid her boots and peeled off her socks, wincing every time she whimpered as he invariably moved her damaged knee. He also managed to remove her coat and shirt, leaving her in her bra, but knew it would cause her too much pain to try to take off her pants-at least they were already unbuttoned.

As she watched him undress her, she felt a surge of alarm, which only made her gag and vomit yet again. The day had been peculiar enough, and she began to panic thinking of the danger to their unborn child. "Get Owen."

"Yeah," he agreed, feeling her fear, though not its reason. Pressing a light kiss against her too warm forehead, he promised. "I'll be back in a second." He could not shake his irrational fear of the fact that he was leaving her alone in a dead woman's house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was almost fifteen minutes before he returned with Owen and Ianto in tow. Owen had asked about her symptoms, and then insisted on bringing as much medical equipment as he could carry or pile into Ianto and Jack's arms. They found her unconscious, her pulses racing.

Immediately taking charge, Owen gave curt commands as he prepared an IV. "Jack, take those monitors and go upstairs and get a bedroom ready." "Ianto, I need you to go in the kitchen and fill a big bowl with cold water."

Looking at the Welshman, who was staring at Melissa in distress, he growled, "Now, Ianto!" That got the young man running. Jack was long gone, already pulling pillows off a bed and clearing away the clutter from an over-crowded beside table. In his fearful haste, he failed to see the red glow coming from the stairs to the attic.

Emerging from the kitchen, Ianto placed the bowl next to the doctor, who ignored it for the moment. "I can't get a good stick in her hand. Hold her arm straight while I try to get a needle in farther up." Wordlessly, Ianto did as he was told.

Tying the tourniquet around her upper right arm, Owen tapped her vein a few times and muttered to himself before carefully inserting the needle. This time, he was in luck.

"Yes!" Taping it secure, he motioned for Ianto to hand him the IV and then quickly inserted the tube into the needle. Fluids slowly began to pump into her body.

Temporarily holding the IV bag aloft, Owen had Ianto place cold compresses on her neck and head. When the archivist had finished, the medic ordered him to find Jack and finish preparations in the bedroom. Once he was out of the room, Owen pulled out the medical scanner.

"Let's see if we can't find out exactly what's wrong." After reading the results, he dropped the scanner to the floor. "Christ, I'm sorry," he whispered. "You should have told us." Mechanically, he refreshed her compresses as he waited for Jack and Ianto to return.


	44. Jack's Surprise

Author's Notes - You can thank Mrs. 11th, Mary Matthesen, padmay97, and dwatlaskrhtcm for the quick update. There's a little bit of gratiutous fluff in the chapter, but I couldn't help myself. You'll know it when you see it.

The Zyloc in Sarah Jane's attic is actually her computer. You know, the kids and I really enjoyed the _Sarah Jane Adventures_. I was saddened to hear of Lis Sladen's passing this spring.

Oh, and I apologize to anyone who caught the fact that Rose said **Casual **nexus rather than **Causal** nexus in the last chapter. That certainly wasn't what I meant! It should be spelled correctly now. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>"Is she going to be alright or isn't she?" Jack demanded impatiently, more than a hint of fear in his voice.<p>

Worn out after battling the Zyloc that had been left to its own devices in Sarah Jane Smith's attic, he was in no mood for Owen's sudden evasiveness. The crystalline entity had managed to kill him five times before Tosh had figured out a way to just turn the damn computer off. If Sarah Jane Smith had been alive, he would have berated her for her naïveté. She, of all people, should have known better than to incorporate an alien into a computer system without actually knowing its intentions.

The fact that this had taken place in the same house where his wife lay unconscious hadn't helped his emotional state. He had been keenly aware of just how defenseless she was the entire time he fought against the Zyloc. In fact, three of his deaths had been the result of his protecting the lower levels of the house.

If that wasn't enough, Torchwood had been given the responsibility of blasting a comet out of the sky that UNIT had somehow managed to miss on its own radar, and rounding up a group of Slitheen who had been posing as a family, of all things. Both tasks had taken longer than expected, and he had speculated on the severity of Melissa's injuries the entire time that he, Gwen and Ianto had been rounding up Slitheen. He was more than ready for some concrete answers.

"She was dehydrated, but she's responding well to fluids. She had a dislocated kneecap, and both wrists are sprained. Her other injuries are mostly cuts and bruises; in that, she was very lucky."

Pausing a long moment, the medic added resignedly, "As for the rest, she wants to tell you herself."

"The rest?" He suddenly had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He couldn't go against his patient's wishes, but Owen did his best to give Jack a hint. "She's been emotional, exhausted and nauseous ever since her attack. The symptoms were there, but none of us wanted to acknowledge it."

Unfortunately, Jack jumped to the wrong conclusion. Remembering how long it had taken her to heal from the attack and how poorly she had been feeling, he now worried that she had some sort of leukemia, if Time Lords could get leukemia. Or maybe the chemicals that had almost killed her outright had actually poisoned her enough to kill her slowly. He couldn't bear to lose her, not after making her a part of himself.

His voice became deadly calm as his fear bubbled beneath the surface. "She's Torchwood. So tell me what the hell is wrong with her, or I will retcon you into infancy and leave you incontinent on a street corner somewhere."

"Nice try," Owen replied acerbically. "But she's never been the typical Torchwood employee, and I'm not going against a promise to my patient!"

Getting in Jack's face, he let his anger at the whole situation boil over. "Now, you have two choices, Captain! You can go in there and wait patiently for your wife to wake up, and I will fucking kill you if you wake her up yourself. Then, you can let her explain just what is wrong. Or, you can continue to act like an arse and I will have the UNIT soldiers who are still wandering about throw you out of this house! Because she is still my patient, and she needs me right now, you stupid, thick, prick!"

Taking a step back and a deep breath, Jack rubbed the palm of his hand against his head. "I'm sorry. I just, I can't lose her, Owen. She's. . . I just can't."

The doctor's anger quickly drained away. "You've never been rational when it comes to her." He awkwardly gave his friend a pat on the shoulder. "Just promise me you won't be angry at her. You have to know it's wasn't her fault."

That statement sent chills down Jack's spine. What could be so bad that Owen thought he would blame her? Had she done something stupidly heroic again that was making her ill?

"I promise," he answered gravely, sensing Owen needed reassurance as much as his wife might. Walking into the dimly lit room, Jack settled into a chair beside the bed to watch her sleep, his mind brimming with frightening possibilities.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Jack." Melissa murmured his name sleepily, still waking from the wisps of an already forgotten dream.

"Sleeping Beauty awakens." He smiled as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"How are you feeling?" Glancing at the IV that was still attached to her arm, and the monitors that were recording her pulse rate and oxygen levels, he swallowed a lump in his throat, almost dreading her answer.

"Tired. I want to go home."

"Owen says you need to rest. Go back to sleep. I promise to be here when you wake."

"Owen's being overprotective." But her protest was pitifully weak, and she was already drifting towards sleep.

A few minutes later, she whispered to him dreamily before unconsciousness could completely overtake her. "Hold my hand."

Eager to please, he carefully placed her hand in his. Immediately he stood in a meadow of short red grass, which was pierced by clumps of purple lilies as far as the eye could see. The air was fragrant with their blossoms, and he inhaled deeply, wondering idly if the beautiful blooms still existed. In the distance, he could see the snowcaps of two massive mountains.

"Jack!"

He turned to see a blur of motion, and then Melissa jumped into his arms, her face lit by a joyful smile. She was wearing only a navy plaid flannel shirt, one of his to be exact, and he admitted privately that it looked much better on her than it ever had him.

Her mood was infectious, and he swung her playfully around, not really understanding why he was laughing and so happy. Then, it hit him. This landscape was sunny, serene, and stunningly beautiful, not at all like the shadowed places he had seen in her mind in the last two months. There must be an explanation, he knew, but he didn't want to ruin something so close to perfect by demanding answers.

Instead, he set her down and put a garland of the purple lilies on top of her long tresses. "There, your outfit needed something. Although, I've got to say, maybe you can wear my shirts more often. They certainly look good on you."

Blushing, she laughed, and he decided that he would pay a king's ransom to hear her laughter again.

She beamed, hearing his thoughts. "I wore this to bed every night for two weeks after you left Colorado. I didn't want to let you go, you know." Then she laughed, just to reward his patience. "I've missed you so much, Jack."

He wasn't sure if she meant then, or the past two months, but found he didn't really care. Bending down, he kissed her passionately as she responded in kind. As he started to unbutton her shirt, however, she wriggled free, lightly skipping a few feet away from him.

"Did I ever mention I am very, very clever?"

Her dimples when she smiled were very, very cute, he decided as he felt the heat of her desire thrum through the valley. Smirking, he instantly closed the distance between them and continued to unbutton her shirt. "You might have mentioned it once or twice," he finally allowed as he breathed on the back of her neck.

"You're distracting me, you know." She pouted playfully, taking another step away from him.

"Isn't that the point?" He was again against her, tugging at the buttons on her shirt that stubbornly refused to open.

The air between them practically crackled with their mutual tension, but again, she stepped away. "Time Lords have this trick with memories, Jack. Easy enough for us really, but more difficult when one's sense of time doesn't quite work as it should."

He tensed, unconsciously arming himself with his greatcoat and Webley. Ignoring his distress, she plowed on. "Before the retcon, I managed to lock a very important memory away in my head. Normally, I would put a time seal on my recollections, and at the appointed time, I would simply remember. However, with my brain damage, I wasn't able to do that."

She took a deep breath, trying to smile as she felt his growing nervousness. "So, I attached my memories to an event, specifically my meeting with Rose."

"You remember what happened to you." His voice was flat as he silently questioned how she could be so pleased with the knowledge of something so terrible.

The smile on her face fell. "Oh, Jack. Not like that. Never like that. When I saw, I couldn't believe how something so beautiful had become so twisted. Remind me never to trust Occam's razor again."

She walked to him, gently pulling apart his crossed arms. "I'm sorry I have to buffer this right now, but Owen will kill us both if I don't. I'm not exactly perfect at the moment." Knowing he was still fearful, she whispered in his ear. "Trust me. Watch."

He was plunged into the middle of a four dimensional movie, set in his bunker. She was there beside him, holding his hand, but still he despaired as he saw her bound to the ladder, pressing herself vainly against the metal in an effort to get some relief from the effects of the powerful drugs that had almost killed her.

"God, no."

"It's okay." She assured him confidently as she moved them to a dark corner, the better to watch what was to come.

Scarcely believing, he saw himself descend the rungs and hesitantly call her name. The effect on the Melissa on the ladder was electric. She begged for his help, and he obeyed, although the Jack of the present did not understand why she had had to beg in the first place. He was even more confused when she tried to stop him and told his past self that he didn't know her. What the hell was going on?

All rational thoughts ceased, however, as he experienced the rest of the memory. It was all from Melissa's perspective, which was somewhat clouded by the drugs, except for the last part, when they had been-hell, he didn't have a name for what they'd been. All he knew is that she had been right to dampen it because even from a distance the experience of their profound mental union was enough to drive him to distraction. He wanted to rip her clothes off and show her pleasures he had only imagined while kneeling at her feet and worshipping her very essence.

Exuberant, he crushed her in a hug, soon giving way to a passionate embrace as they stood among the fragrant lilies of the mountain valley. There was no protest as he thought her clothing gone and did the same to his own. He could feel her hands on every inch of his body, her mouth on his, her desire expanding like the bloom of one of the lilies in the field.

Then suddenly, she stumbled, and the mountains disappeared behind a thick, foggy, mist. Grabbing her before she could collapse, his arousal evaporated, replaced by a growing anxiety.

"I shouldn't have pushed. Owen warned me you aren't well."

"Owen shouldn't have said anything." She snapped testily, still leaning against him for support. "I'm as fine as I can be, considering. I really just need some more sleep, and then I'll be able to keep up with you. I promise."

"Considering what?" Tenderly, he laid her on the warm grass, tucking his coat under her head for a pillow and stroking her hair.

Nervously, she clasped his hands. "Stretch your senses and find out."

Quieting his mind, Jack relaxed. On the edge of the gentle breeze he could feel . . . . "Oh," he breathed, looking at her in joyful reverence. Then worriedly, he questioned, "Is she-?"

"She's fine," Melissa quickly reassured him. "I was better than an air bag for her. Wish I could say the same for myself. Getting hit by a car was not on my agenda."

"No," he agreed absentmindedly, still reeling from the knowledge that he was going to have one of his secret fantasies fulfilled.

She chuckled. "You managed to keep that hidden quite well. I never realized you wanted a child of your own, Jack."

"Of our own," he immediately corrected.

Her hearts felt like they might break as she brought her hand to his cheek. "You know what will happen, don't you?"

Devotedly, he kissed her palm. "It's real now, and I love you both. I will always love you both."

He held her as she fell asleep, their joy tempered by the harsh truth of the alternate reality. When Owen came into the room to check on them several hours later, he found them both snoring, their hands clasped tightly together.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Wear something sexy tonight. I'm taking you out for dinner." Smiling wickedly, Jack whispered huskily in Melissa's ear as he surprised her in the archives.

"You do know that's more difficult than it sounds, don't you?" She playfully rolled her eyes as he stared lovingly at her ever expanding stomach.

"You mean the TARDIS didn't give you a slinky black dress?"

As he massaged the back of her neck, she wondered if he could be persuaded to go home early.

"No, just comfortable pants." Her answer was short and unfocused as she felt Jack's longing while he moved his fingers up her neck to massage her scalp. It sent a shiver of heat through her even as she felt herself relaxing into his touch. Stretching against her chair, she decided she needed a break from work anyway.

A discreet cough interrupted those thoughts. "A Captain Magambo from UNIT is here to see you, sir. She said you were expecting her."

Jack's cheeks tinged at Ianto's reminder. "I forgot. Tell her I'll be up in a minute, will you, Ianto?"

"Of course."

As the Welshman turned to leave, Jack stared at the green and yellow argyle vest the young man was wearing, and couldn't help but needle him. "Nice sweater vest, by the way. Susan has very interesting taste in fashion."

"Ignore him," Melissa hurriedly added, shooting her husband a reproving look. "I think it's very kind of you to wear that to work, although I'm sure none of us will mention it if you decide not to do so in the future."

He answered dryly. "I'm thinking of going Weevil hunting in it."

Before he could turn to leave, however, she managed to ask, "How's she doing, by the way?"

His shoulders stiffened, which was the only indication that he felt uncomfortable answering the question. "Susan's fine. She's auditioning for an opening with the junior symphony next week. She hasn't . . . ?" He trailed off, not really knowing how to ask the question.

"Hasn't called? Hasn't talked to us? Hasn't forgiven me for getting pregnant? Which is it, Ianto?"

Smiling pleasantly, Melissa tried to keep her voice light. Susan's reaction to her pregnancy had wounded her deeply. Was she jealous of a new child for her mother to love? Angry that her father had been truly replaced? Or simply put out by the inconvenience of it all? She hadn't even given them a chance to talk to her. She had simply stormed out, and it was three days before Ianto confessed that she was staying at his place.

"I was hoping she would have called," he admitted quietly, saddened by their continuing estrangement. Not wanting to discuss it further, he quickly added, "I should see to Captain Magambo." Turning, he beat a hasty retreat.

Once they were alone, Jack gave her a comforting hug. "She'll come around."

"Sure." She responded half-heartedly, trying not to dwell on the negatives.

Sensing her mood, he leaned over, sensuously kissing the nape of her neck. It had the desired effect.

"So, dinner?" she squeaked, wondering just how long the UNIT officer could wait without feeling insulted.

"Mmm." He captured her mouth with his as he expertly released the tension in her back. Reluctantly pulling away, he agreed. "Dinner. Pick you up about six?"

Managing to rise gracefully from her seat, she nodded, following him up the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"Shopping. I think you mentioned a slinky black dress?"

"Yeah," he agreed eagerly, anticipation written on his face.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Promptly at six, Jack, wearing a stunning black tuxedo, knocked on his front door, a bouquet of a dozen red roses in his hand. As his wife answered, his eyes sparkled as he felt her surprise turn to appreciation and then arousal.

He grinned, stepping slightly to the side to breathe huskily in her ear. "Those hormones of yours are making this way too easy, you know."

Smirking, she challenged, "What's your excuse?" She could feel his own desire intensify as soon as he took a good look at her.

"Where to begin?"

Nibbling on her neck, he confessed just what her outfit was doing to him. "That little black dress is indecent, you know." Kissing her some more, he stroked his finger across the top of her exposed cleavage. "And, I'm wondering just how easy it will be to pop you out of that. You look ripe and delicious." Then, he ran his hand under the hem, which hit a little past her thighs. "Or maybe, I don't have to get you out of it at all."

Looking a little dazedly into his eyes, Melissa considered getting out of the dress right then and there, the roses crushed and forgotten in her hand.

"Mom! Was that Karen at the door?" Running downstairs, he stopped abruptly when he saw Jack. "Whoa, Dad! Lookin' good! That beats flannel any day!" Matthew gave Jack a high-five as he noticed just how happy his mother looked. It was certainly a welcome change from a few months ago.

Oh, I don't know," Jack replied with a sly smile directed at his wife. "I think flannel on the right person can look quite good."

Flushing crimson, she walked into the kitchen to compose herself in the guise of finding a vase for the roses. "If you haven't noticed, Matt, we're going out," she called back to her son as she snipped the stems.

"Somehow, I guessed." The boy answered loudly as he silently handed Jack the overnight bag that he had stashed in the teen's room that morning.

Stealthily, Jack took the bag and ran to put it in the car. Returning before Melissa had finished in the kitchen, he informed his son, "We'll be at the St. David's. Don't tell anyone unless they're holding a gun to your head, okay?"

"No problem. I've even turned down two parties tonight. No chance of you getting called to the station."

"Good, because tonight, you'd just have to sit." He softened the warning with a big grin, but Matthew knew there was truth behind the teasing. Jack had been planning this for weeks; he wasn't going to let anything ruin it.

"Do you think she knows what's going on?" He hoped his mother would enjoy the surprise.

"No," the Captain answered confidently. Then, his face clouded slightly. "I'm not sure she even knows today's date. Works been keeping both of us busy, and your mom's been a little . . . ."

"Scatterbrained?" Matthew finished his thought with a knowing grin. "She forgot she had banana muffins in the oven yesterday morning. You should have seen the smoke!"

"So that explains the candles last night. I couldn't smell a thing." Seeing Melissa emerge from the kitchen, he grabbed the vase from her hands and placed it in the middle of the dining room table. "Ready?"

"Almost." Wrapping a lacy black shawl around her bare shoulders, she glanced tentatively at her son. "You sure you don't mind us going out?"

"Why should I? I finally get the DVD player to myself. I'm going to watch the first season of _Stargate_."

With a theatrical shudder, she shook her head. "You do realize that all the humans and aliens seem to speak English on that show without the benefit of a translator circuit, don't you?"

"You do know you've gotten way too picky about TV since you opened your watch, don't you? Besides, they actually filmed this one in Colorado, and the writers find ways to take off Samantha Carter's shirt as often as Daniel Jackson's. It's got a few more things going for it than the one at home did."

"Equal chest baring-you can't argue with that." Jack put his hand against Melissa's back trying to hurry things along. "Don't wait up for us, son."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Dad." Grinning, the teen waved a jaunty goodbye as he closed and locked the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So, where are you taking me?" Melissa asked in anticipation once she had buckled into the passenger seat of the Jag.

"I'm thinking of taking you right here, but the neighbors might object. You look sexier than I thought possible in that dress. Where did you find it?"

"I have to have some secrets, Jack." She licked her lips suggestively, running her hand up his leg. "I would love to be taken here, but the logistics might get iffy right now. How about a rain check for after the baby's born?"

"It's a date," he agreed readily, already thinking of some good spots to park the car when the opportunity presented itself. "As for tonight, you'll just have to wait and see."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Handing the car keys to the valet at the hotel, he started to get a little nervous. He hoped that she would like what he had planned.

Startled by his sudden unease, she gave him a sharp glance. "Are you okay?"

"To borrow a phrase, I'm perfect. Just worried about a few last minute details for tonight." Opening the door to the grand lobby, he ushered her inside.

"I'm surprised you got reservations here. The restaurant supposedly books up weeks in advance." This was going to be a treat. They seldom went out by themselves anymore. Mostly, going out involved grabbing takeout with Matthew or a few hours at the pub with the Torchwood gang, although both were few and far between these days.

"I have reservations, just not at the restaurant." With that remark, he led her to the reception desk.

"Ah, Captain Harkness, good evening. Everything is ready for you." The efficient clerk handed the Captain his card key. He had been paid well to make check-in as quick as possible.

Melissa hid her disappointment as she followed her husband into the elevator. Not that a night completely alone with Jack was a bad thing, but, well, she was hungry, and promised a dinner date, not some snacks from a hotel refrigerator. Disgruntled, she didn't see him insert the card into the slot for the penthouse suite.

The elevator opened into a spacious foyer that revealed only one door. She smiled; at least they were going to eat their snacks in style. Unlocking the suite, Jack nervously led her into the penthouse apartment. A string quartet played in the sitting area, and the sumptuous dining room was candlelit for a romantic dinner for two.

Taking her shawl, he gave her a tender kiss. "I hope you don't mind room service tonight."

Speechless, she just nodded, trying not to get teary-eyed. He must have been planning this for quite a while. Letting him seat her at the table, she was in for another shock.

"Malcolm, how good to see you. Don't tell me you're serving us this evening?"

"Who else could cook an authenitc Creole dinner in Cardiff than a Southern expat? When Captain Harkness explained the type of food he wanted, I insisted on serving you myself." With a flourish, Malcolm handed her the evening's menu.

Eyes widening in surprise, she quickly read the menu. It was too much. This time, the tears started to spill.

"Why don't you bring out the drinks and appetizer in a few minutes, Malcolm." Jack gave the chef a look designed to reassure him that Melissa was pleased, but pregnant.

"Certainly, sir." The chef responded formally, with more than a hint of jest in his voice. He remembered the way his wife had acted when she was pregnant with his own daughter, a daughter who would be dead if not for Jack Harkness. Cooking and serving dinner and throwing together a hummingbird cake was the least he could do.

Once his friend had gone, Jack took Melissa's hand. "I didn't do this to make you cry, you know. You do like it, don't you? I mean, I can feel you're happy, but if you don't like the menu, we can go downstairs. I made backup reservations just in case."

His thoroughness only made her cry harder. "I can't believe you went to all this trouble. Thank you, Jack. I don't know how I can tell you just how much this means to me." Sniffling, she took the handkerchief he offered and carefully wiped her eyes.

"I'm glad you like it." He only dropped her hand when Malcolm reappeared with the shrimp remoulade and iced tea.

Dinner was superb; Malcolm had truly outdone himself. They took dessert and coffee on the balcony, listening to the music of the string quartet, neither bothered by the slight chill in the autumn air.

"Care to dance?" His eyes held a hint of a challenge in them.

She let him help her stand; the chairs on the balcony were too low for her to rise gracefully by herself. "As long as it's not the foxtrot."

They waltzed as best they could on the balcony, laughing every time they bumped into something. Finally, they settled on swaying to the music as they held each other close, Melissa half turning so she could get her arms around him. After a while, he felt her leaning more and more on him rather than against him.

"Tired?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted reluctantly. "Or maybe, I've finally realized this dress wasn't exactly meant for comfort."

"I have a remedy for that." He spoke quietly to the musicians and then led them to the door, having seen Malcolm leave about an hour before. As he thanked the quartet once again, he picked up the suitcase that the valet had delivered to the outside foyer and brought it inside.

When he returned, she was waiting patiently for him near the bedroom. "I think you mentioned looking forward to popping me out of this?"

"Anything to make you more comfortable."

Standing behind her, he slowly unzipped the form-fitting dress, pushing it leisurely off her body. Then, he did the same to the tiny scrap of lace that somehow counted as underwear. "Better?" he whispered when he heard her sigh of contentment as her clothing hit the floor.

"Much."

She stilled as he unpinned her hair, her red curls almost hitting her shoulder. His fingers ran through her tresses, massaging her scalp, eliciting another small sigh of pleasure. Encouraged, Jack stripped to the waist, pressing his warm chest against the coolness of her scarred back.

"Still tired?"

Craning her head to look up at him, she gave him a wicked smile. "No."

"Perfect."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I'm tired now," she eventually admitted with a satisfied smile.

Pulling the duvet onto both of them, he breathed into her ear. "Happy anniversary."

Suddenly, she looked stricken. "I forgot."

Kissing away her distress, he affirmed, "Doesn't matter; I remembered." Smiling softly, he placed his hand on her rounded stomach, feeling the essence that was their child.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Jack, there's a major rift spike not five miles from your location. Ianto's bringing the SUV to pick you up. He should be there in a minute."

Jack touched his earpiece. "Thanks, Tosh. We'll be waiting."

"Trouble?" Melissa watched Jack access his wrist computer. She supposed their evening stroll was over, although she admitted privately to herself that the three plus miles they had walked from the Hub was farther than she would have preferred. Even ambling along with Jack wasn't as much fun now the she didn't so much stride as waddle.

"Unfortunately," he answered in apology. "Tosh told me there's strong rift activity about five miles from here. My wrist computer can't pinpoint what it is, but it seems to have the potential to cause a messy paradox. I'm getting some strange artron readings from the spike."

As he studied the readouts further, his mouth compressed into a frown. "I don't want you anywhere near this; I can't figure out these readings. When Ianto gets here, we'll drop you off at the Hub and then go to the site."

"That's going to waste too much time. We're only a few miles away from the Hub anyway. Why can't I just walk back?" She didn't argue with his decision to exclude her. In her condition, she was much more a liability than an asset. However, she didn't think he needed to waste time escorting her back to base.

"Are you sure?" he asked doubtfully. "It's late."

"It's only seven."

He might have made another argument, but Ianto pulled up in the SUV at that moment, and the decision was made for him. "Some nutter's just come through the Rift who's screaming like a banshee according to the police. They think he's holding some sort of weapon, but don't know what to do."

With a quick kiss and a heartfelt, "Sorry," Jack hopped into the SUV, leaving Melissa alone on the quiet street. For a few seconds, she watched the vehicle's taillights as it sped away; then, pressing her hand on the small of her back, she slowly began to make her way to the Hub.

As the walk back seemed to stretch into eternity, she cursed her forgetfulness. She hadn't taken her coat, and without it, she couldn't call anyone to pick her up. As she continued her slow pace, she wished she had let Jack take her back to the Hub. Surely, it wouldn't have taken that long.

Weary, she continued to walk slowly in the direction of her goal, deciding that her earlier pregnancies hadn't been this annoying. What could she expect, though? With her triple strand DNA, pregnancy with a human shouldn't even be possible without genetic engineering on a scale unknown to twenty-first century Earth. Jack was proving once again to be more than a little extraordinary, however.

At least he was taking everything in stride. There were times she thought Owen was going to have a stroke just trying to figure out her due date. At the end of four months, the baby was eight pounds, fully developed except for her brain and hearts. Close monitoring showed those organs to be developing as well, although obviously at a slower rate than the rest of her body.

Melissa hoped that was normal, but her first pregnancy had been over a thousand years ago, and even she had forgotten some of the details. She did remember that the maturation of the infant's brain would initiate the onset of labor. Owen had thought she had been joking the first time she had informed him, but had been appalled when she had explained the rationale.

Rassilon, in his drive to instill into his people a mastery of time, had been ruthlessly efficient with the genetic manipulations necessary to do so. Above all, a Time Lord would need a powerful mind, able to direct his or her thoughts and senses far beyond anything the lesser species could comprehend. If the infant was not strong enough to manipulate the mother's hormones in order to start labor, then there was no point in such a weak example of the species being born.

Of course, Rassilon had been a man, and hadn't really thought out the ramifications of that decision, which was one of the reasons looming had become so popular among her people. Mothers-to-be hadn't relished the prospect of artificially assisted birth, nor had they wanted to risk bonding with a child in the womb who might be labeled as "inferior." Until the Doctor's presidency, such offspring were routinely ostracized, if not killed.

Also, the danger to the mother was significant. So much had been done to Gallifreyan DNA to create the Time Lords that the hormones released during pregnancy wrecked havoc with the body. After four months, she was finding herself relying on the bond she shared with Jack more and more. Hopefully, he would never realize just how much she needed him now for emotional balance. Whenever she spent more than a few hours away from him, she felt exhausted and distraught. It was enough to make her wish that one of the three founders of Time Lord society had been a woman.

Plodding slowly onwards, she reamined unaware of the eerie silence on the street until it was too late. The first three, she dismissed as teenagers in fancy dress; they were too far away to get a good look at them. But as more and more appeared in the distance, she realized with a sick lurch that those were no boys in Halloween costumes. At least a dozen Weevils were stalking her.

Reflexively, she reached for her jacket pocket to grab the sonic screwdriver, and was forcibly reminded of another reason why she should have brought her coat. Toddling along as fast as she could, she hoped to find some signs of life-a passing car, an open coffee shop-but everything on the street was dark and deserted. With a strangled sob, she broke into an awkward run, looking over her shoulder to see that the Weevils were following. Growling now, they had obviously sensed her, their primitive genetic memory branding her a traitor to their kind. She was going to be killed tonight by the very people she had once tried to save.

Out of breath, she rested against a lamppost, despondent. She hadn't been able to run for more than half a mile, far too little to shake the Weevils, who were drawing ever closer.

"You should not be walking at night alone, My Lady." Melissa's head jerked up in surprise. Incredibly, a young girl in a long, purple old fashioned dress was standing just a few feet away from her.

"Run," she gasped as she fought to get more air into her lungs. She could hear the Weevils; they were getting much closer. There was no reason for two to die tonight, especially a little girl.

But the child stood her ground. With a wave of her hand, the Weevils reluctantly began to back away, howling in protest as they did so. Shocked, Melissa peered closely at the young girl's face. There was nothing in her countenance to betray the power she held over the sad creatures, but there was something familiar about the eyes, something she couldn't quite remember.

Turning to Melissa, the odd child smiled gently. "We must make haste. They shall call the others and return before long." Taking the pregnant Time Lord by the hand, she pulled her quickly down the street.

Too stunned to protest, Melissa allowed herself to be led silently towards the Plass. As they neared the Old Norwegian Church, the girl finally spoke. "Perhaps My Lady would honor me by sharing some refreshment?"

Worn out, Melissa merely nodded, letting the girl lead her inside the converted church. The lights were on, and the small cafe was cozy and warm. Sitting at one of the wooden tables, she tried not to dwell on the fact that she had come very close to dying in a most gruesome way. Instead, she made a conscious effort to relax, allowing her overtaxed body to recover from the unexpected aerobic activity. She was all but asleep in her chair when her rescuer returned with a tray laden with tea and savory snacks.

"Drink this, My Lady. The chamomile should help counteract the adrenaline still in your system."

Melissa jerked her head up in surprise, startled by her rescuer's voice. More specifically, her manner of speech had broken forcefully through the nightmare that had started to take shape in her weary mind. She looked sharply at the girl. "Thank you, but you can call me Melissa; it's my name."

"For but a handful of years." The strange child argued calmly. "Although, I think it suits you. It is a very pretty name."

Sipping her tea, Melissa regarded the girl thoughtfully. "You're no girl, at least a human one. Who are you, child?"

"I have been through too much to be called a child."

Gazing into her eyes, Melissa agreed. "You have sorrows enough for an adult, and you are much, much older than you appear." Quizzically, she added, "And you seem so familiar, as if I should know who you are. Do I know you?"

"Some have called me a Verran soothsayer."

"Verona has no soothsayers. I should know. I was there often enough scouting for a willing planet."

Her memories hit a familiar concrete wall, but it gave her a desperate hope. "You have control over the Weevils. In another time, you saved my life. Jack said you've been here since before he arrived. To which species do you belong? Please, I need to know. I can't remember, any of it. If there's any hope that someone survived. . . ."

Gently, she took Melissa's hands and closed her eyes. For a moment, her face took on a frown, then her eyes opened and she regarded the Time Lord sadly. "Your memories of the final battle have been blocked, and I do not understand why, nor can I undo it. I had thought your former ignorance merely a byproduct of the Chameleon Arch, but someone has deliberately kept you from remembering. I am sorry, My Lady."

Voice quavering, Melissa said, "But you know who I am."

Smiling, the girl answered readily. "Of course, Lady Emissary, you are the savior of Arcadia."

Her face a trembling mask of grief, she hotly refuted that statement. "Those Weevils out there prove you wrong."

"There were casualties," the Arcadian admitted sadly. "More casualties than we could bear. But you saved our species. When it was apparent that the Daleks were attacking, you evacuated us to Verona. All of us, the children of Arcadia, escaped the final annihilation. After we had settled, I volunteered to take care of our elders, the survivors who had been on the surface when the first time bombs hit. They had devolved within minutes. When we were finally able to come back for them, only a hundred or so remained. Arcadia was barely able to sustain life, most of the survivors perished in the first few years."

"Did I know you?" Melissa could scarcely believe the relief she felt knowing she had been no coward. She had not, after all, run away.

"I do not believe so, my lady. You were much too busy to meet more than a few of us, but our gratitude is boundless. I saw the recent damage to your temporal lobe. I regret that it is beyond my ability to heal." Tranquilly, she poured Melissa another cup of tea, placing some cheese and crackers on a plate in front of her.

Mechanically, she ate everything on her plate, taking another helping when she had finished. Finally, she remarked with a sniff, "Without a TARDIS, I can't travel, and with my injury, I can't even see the timelines. You'll forgive me for saying that my being a savior of anything is unlikely in the extreme. I think you must have the wrong Time Lord. I was Castellan; I should have been on Gallifrey."

"Your situation now does not impact who you were then. I am sorry that the past and the future are hidden from you, but perhaps you should be grateful for the present. Perhaps it is a gift."

That answer only served to embitter her further. "Who would be so cruel as to give me a gift of a timeline that is doomed like this one? I am happy here, even in my grief. If not for the approaching darkness, I would be tempted to allow it to become permanent, although I tell myself every night that I am not so selfish."

"I do not know the purpose in anyone's suffering, especially yours, Emissary. But you know better than most that everything dies, some sooner than others." Sorrowfully, the mysterious girl glanced at Melissa's pregnant form. "But tonight you need your rest. It is much later than you think, and your knight protector will be worried."

Suddenly lethargic, the pregnant Time Lord rested her head against the wall of the cafe. The next thing she knew, Jack was in the room, yelling.

"What the hell have you done to her? You can play your little games with me, but touch her, and you will regret it!"

Wanting to correct his assumptions, she opened her eyes, but the best she could manage was a soft groan and a hand on his arm.

Instantly, he turned his attention to her. "Sweetheart, I've been looking for you for hours. What's wrong?"

"Just tired," she managed to reply, her voice surprisingly hoarse and scratchy.

"You should know better than to let her walk alone in the dark, Captain."

In an instant, the soothsayer had recaptured his attention, and Jack grimaced as he listened to the condemnation in her voice.

"I was able to dissuade the Weevils, but there are far worse in this place who would be drawn to such a precious target. Your time together in this reality is short enough. Do not make it shorter by your own carelessness."

Chastised, Jack knelt down to look Melissa's benefactor in the eyes. "You saved her life again. I'll give you anything you want as payment."

"It is an honor to serve the Lady Emissary in such a small way. You need not make payment for her life, Captain. However, there is a question of a favor owed. The bargain for that still stands, and the time draws near. Even now, the lock is broken."

Jack nodded, not surprised that the strange girl knew who Melissa was. And, he had told her long ago that he would gladly give up his life for hers, even before he understood just how precious that life was. That had not changed. He anxiously turned his attention back to his wife, whose eyes had shut yet again.

"Sweetheart, can you hear me? I know about the Weevils. Did they hurt you?"

"No," she rasped, her voice barely audible. "I ran as far as I could, but it wasn't far enough. She saved me and the baby. Stop yelling."

"I will. The SUV's parked just outside. Let's go home."


	45. The Ghost of Christmas Past

"How was your evening?" Jack didn't bother to ask if Melissa had been sleeping. He could feel her anxiety as soon as he had walked inside the house.

She had insisted a little over a week ago that they all celebrate Thanksgiving, for Matthew's sake as much as the hope that Susan would accept the invitation. And, Jack had to admit that it had been fun, even if Susan had refused to attend. It had been fun, that is, until she had started having contractions. When she was able to stop them after two hours, Owen had insisted on bed rest, and she had been impatient, frightened and irritable ever since.

"Boring."

He flicked on the lights to the bedroom, wondering why she had been lying awake in the dark. "I took some video of the wedding. Want to see?"

"My eyes are tired," she answered, disgruntled. "Maybe later."

"I only went because you told me to, you know." His voice was gentle and patient.

"I'm not angry about that!" she snapped. "I'm not angry about anything! I'm bored and I spend too much of my day thinking or trying not to think. I've ready thirty-five books in the last two days, and even my eyes get tired! I just want to be left alone!" Then, before Jack could reply, she asked crossly, "Where's Matthew?"

"Still at the reception. Gwen and Rhys put on quite a spread. They'll be eating and dancing for hours. It's no fun dancing without you, though." Sitting beside her, he stroked her cheek. As she closed her eyes he felt her relax.

"Hungry?"

"Always," she confessed with an embarrassed smile, her mood changing instantly.

"How about a ham sandwich and fruit salad? I even brought back a double slice of wedding cake for you. No cream cheese icing, though."

She nodded wearily, silently wondering how she could be so exhausted from doing nothing all day long. Watching him leave to fix her plate, she began to cry, overwhelmed by his patient kindness. The fact that she had so little control over her emotions these days made her cry all the more. By the time Jack returned, her face was a red, blotchy mess.

"Hey, it's okay." He comforted her quietly, setting the plate temporarily on the dresser. Instantly, he knew what was bothering her. His mind had become so attuned to hers that he could now pick up many of her thoughts and feelings from several feet away. She had told him it was a primitive, psychic response to her pregnancy hormones, and that it would dissipate quickly once the baby was born. He didn't mind, actually. It was reassuring knowing what was going on in that head of hers, especially now.

Helping her prop herself up with several pillows, he gave her a tender kiss. "Owen says you haven't had any contractions in five days; two more and he'll let you sit on the sofa."

"Will he let me have a shower?" She absently took a bite of the ham sandwich.

"Don't you like the sponge baths I've been giving you?"

"No; I still feel yishy. I want some hot water pouring down my body and a good scrubbing of soap." Temporarily distracted by the fruit salad, she concentrated on picking at the food on her plate before washing it down with a small glass of water.

Jack let her eat before answering. "If he lets you sit in the den; he might let you stand long enough to take a shower, although I get the impression that you're lucky you're not lying here with catheter. He really doesn't want you doing much of anything right now."

Expecting her to rant about the doctor's over protectiveness, he was surprised when she simply closed her eyes.

Weakly, she defended Owen. "He means well; it's not his fault he's out of his depth. Then, her voice cracked. "She's just too young to understand. She wants so much to be born and I'm doing everything I can to prevent it, but I'm so tired, Jack. I don't think I can stop it much longer."

Suddenly somber, he squeezed her hand. "I know, Sweetheart."

Brightening after a minute, he offered, "Would you like me to show you the wedding in your mind? We could make fun of the guests and the bridesmaids' outfits. Gwen picked the most awful pink. Or, I could show you how her wedding went the first time. She was impregnated by a Nostrovite the night before. Very messy; had to retcon all the guests by the time the reception was over."

In spite of herself, she smiled. "I think I'll take a rain check on both. If you don't mind helping me to the bathroom, I would really like just talking to you when I get back."

Helping her to the bathroom, he could sense how uncomfortable her entire body felt, and sent her a short burst of sympathy and support. She smiled back at him, grateful for his help. He helped her settle back into bed before he stripped off his clothes and put on a pair of flannel pajama pants. Lying down next to her, he rubbed her lower back, knowing how much it bothered her these days.

"If you ever quit Torchwood, you could make a good living as a masseuse."

"No one could afford me. I have skills you couldn't dream of."

"That sounds like a challenge for another day." She murmured dreamily, already drifting towards sleep. Jack rubbed her back until he heard her snoring. Then, resting his arm against her, he let his mind drift over Gwen's wedding. Tosh had looked so wistful holding Owen's hand as they had sat next to him during the ceremony. Regretfully, he thought of the future that was in store for them until he fell into an uneasy sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack woke abruptly from a vivid nightmare. Someone had been torturing him by standing an elephant on his back. Strangely exhausted, he closed his eyes only to feel the excruciating pain of his nightmares in reality, followed by a quiet whimper. Instantly, he realized what was happening.

Reaching for Melissa, he asked anxiously, "How long have you been in labor?"

"Not sure; thought I was having a weird dream." As Jack held her, she grimaced as another contraction gripped her. "Don't think I can stop it this time, though."

"No," he agreed as he again sensed her pain. Concentrating, he tried to control her pain just as she had done for him all those months ago. Suddenly, they both felt much better, although he was already getting a dull headache for his efforts.

"Thanks. I guess you should call Owen." Slowly, she stood up and put on her robe. Why did she have to go into labor in the middle of the night?

"Shit, I hope he's not too pissed." Grabbing the keys, Jack helped his wife put on some slippers and bundled her into the car. They passed Matthew on their way out. He promised to call everyone at a more reasonable hour and let them know what had happened.

Jack made it to Torchwood in record time. Owen was waiting impatiently at the tourist entrance. The Captain could tell he was slightly drunk, so he hoped he wouldn't need the good doctor at his very best. Even at his worst, though, Owen was a force to be reckoned with, and Jack had definitely seen him much worse.

"Trust your kid to decide to be born just when I was making Tosh come like she never has before. I didn't realize how much she got off at weddings. May have to start crashing them."

Unlocking the inner door, Owen led them through corridors down to a rarely used portion of the Hub that had been transformed in the last month into a state of the art labor and delivery room.

"Yeah, well, just think how much she'd be turned on at her own wedding." Jack answered without thinking as he helped Melissa follow Owen down the long, dimly lit corridors.

The medic shot him a look of horror. "Do not put that idea in her head, Captain. Just because you and Gwen are enjoying marital bliss does not mean the rest of us have follow your lead."

As Jack's attention wavered and another contraction caused Melissa to clutch her stomach in pain, she shouted, "Can you two just shut up?"

That got their attention. "Sorry, darling," Owen apologized with an air of familiarity he wouldn't have used if entirely sober. Turning more professional, he asked, "How far apart are the contractions?"

"How the hell should I know." Snapping in frustration, she donned the generic hospital gown Jack handed to her. Just then, another contraction hit, causing her to grip the edge of the bed in order to stay upright.

"I'd say about four minutes apart." Jack answered for her as he tried to remain calm. As soon as it ended, she straightened up and shot daggers at him, her eyes flashing in anger.

Sensing she was not one to experience labor serenely, Owen cut off whatever she was about to say. "Okay. Melissa, get on the bed and let me see how far you've dilated."

Nodding curtly, she did as he asked, begrudgingly letting Jack hold her hand. Instantly, she relaxed as she felt his soothing presence in her mind. Not paying attention to Owen in the least, she gave her husband's hand a gentle squeeze. "Please take anything I say in the next few hours with a large grain of salt."

Chuckling, he kissed her forehead, which was already lined with sweat. "I promise. What goes on here stays here. I'll never mention it again. Just promise me you won't break my hand. Takes a long time to mend fingers, even with a tissue regenerator."

"I promise." Turning her attention back to Owen, she watched him frown as he examined her. "False alarm?" she asked hopefully.

"Not a chance," Owen replied, his tone of voice kinder than she would have liked. "You're only four centimeters, though. Why don't you walk around while I make some coffee. This might take longer than we thought."

Owen disappeared for an hour, blaming the coffee machine. He returned with two travel mugs and a t-shirt and jeans for the Captain, who in his haste to get Melissa to the Hub was dressed in nothing but pajama bottoms.

Quickly, Jack dressed between Melissa's contractions, helping her back into bed so Owen could check her progress. As soon as she lay down, her water broke. "No going back now," Owen remarked as he privately noted with some concern that she hadn't seemed to have dilated any more in the last hour. It looked like they might be in for a long haul.

By five the next evening, Owen was extremely worried. Progress seemed to be stalled at seven centimeters, and he was concerned that even if she suddenly dilated fully, his patient would be too tired to push the baby out. Jack had managed to shield her from the pain completely for four hours, but twelve hours of painful labor would tire anyone, including a Time Lord. Her entire body was drenched in sweat, and her blood pressure was edging into a dangerous zone. Cesarean wasn't an option unless he could call in some help, and how the hell was he supposed to sedate her in the first place?

Watching her go through yet another contraction, Owen noted that she was pushing. "Don't do that; it'll only tire you out."

"Feels right," she grunted as the contraction finally ended.

Checking her out of habit, Owen shouted in surprise. "Bloody hell! You went from seven centimeters to twelve in ten minutes. Push a few times more like that, and you might even have a baby!"

"Sixteen hours, ten minutes."

Jack testily corrected Owen as Melissa squeezed his hand so hard that he worried about her promise not to break his fingers. Not that he was complaining. Feeling extremely guilty that he only managed to block her pain for a few hours, he was astonished that she had not yelled once in the time following. Occasionally, she would whimper, and he had invariably tried to help her with the pain, but he would only get a blinding headache for his efforts. He stopped abruptly when he sensed that she could feel his pain as much as her own. Since then, he had been quietly offering encouragement and keeping his mind as calm as possible, but he did not attempt to shield her from the contractions again.

Another contraction hit, and another, and another, and with each one, Melissa pushed as hard as she could. Still, it was not as easy as Owen had hoped. In all, it took her thirty minutes of pushing through very intense, long contractions before the baby's head crowned and her body finally slipped out of the birth canal to emerge into the cool air.

Assaulted by her new environment, the baby gave a weak cry. Instantly, Dr. Harper realized that something was wrong. Instead of being a healthy pink, the infant had a blue tinge about her. Quickly taking her to a warm, heated table, Owen cleaned out her mouth and watched her breathe. Finding that normal, he put a stethoscope to his ear and had a listen to her chest. Definitely two hearts, the left one beat perfectly fine, but listening to the right one, he heard a sluggish whooshing that could only indicate a significant defect.

Owen's swearing started softly, almost too low to hear, gaining slowly in volume until his words were an angry torrent as he raged against his limitations as a doctor and the unfairness of life in general. Finally, a weary voice cut through his anger.

"Owen, give the baby to Jack. I think I need some help." Melissa's voice quavered with fatigue, but there was an underlying timber of fear that made her words half plea, half command.

Pulling himself together, he finally looked at his other patient. "Shit." Wordlessly, he handed the baby to Jack, who tenderly carried his newborn daughter into an adjoining room to clean and clothe her.

Without Jack's comforting presence, she began to shake with delayed pain, exhaustion and shock. "I think something's wrong."

Once again completely professional, the medic quickly assessed the problem. "The placenta tore, and you're bleeding more than I would like. Stay with me while I fix a few things. You're going to be fine." This, at least, was something he could do, although his rotation through obstetrics had been twelve years ago.

Concentrating on his work, he looked up in surprise when she hesitantly asked, "What color are her eyes?"

"Green. And she's got a head full of dark hair. She's beautiful." When she didn't speak after a few minutes, he added bitterly, "It's just so fucking unfair! Torchwood has all this fucking technology and it's absolutely fucking useless when I really need it. She has a hole in her right heart. I can't do anything for her, Melissa. I'm sorry." His voice cracked at the end.

"It's not your fault, Owen." Closing her eyes, tears slipped down her face as she accepted that her child's life would be incredibly brief.

Jack returned at that moment, holding the baby who was dressed in pale pink and wrapped in a soft blanket that seemed to shimmer with every color of the rainbow. She was gripping his finger and giving him a bright-eyed smile as he sang softly to her. He meant to give the baby to Melissa, but Owen waved him off.

"Wait, Captain." Finished, he tried to guess how much blood she had lost while he had been distracted with the baby. Too damn much, in his eyes. "Melissa, I don't want you getting up just yet. Let's give it a few hours. Then, we'll move you to the bed in the next room. I'm going to cath you and give you some fluids. Once that's set up, you can hold the baby for a few minutes."

Too worn out to protest, she nodded listlessly. Jack watched with growing concern as Owen inserted the catheter tube and then the IV. She was shivering, her face swollen, the skin around her eyes bruised to black and blue, and her irises bloodshot. Worse, she seemed barely responsive to the doctor's questions.

Once the IV had been started, Owen placed a heavy, warm blanket on top of her and motioned for Jack to bring the baby. It was obvious that she was making a huge effort just to stay conscious long enough to hold her child, and the medic wanted to give her that opportunity before exhaustion and blood loss made her too weary to do anything but sleep.

"She's been waiting for you, Sweetheart." Jack carefully placed the baby in her arms, smiling softly.

"She's beautiful," she breathed, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. When her daughter gave her a genuine smile, she broke out into a huge grin. "She's got your charm, Jack."

"Yes, she does," he agreed fondly. Watching the baby try to suckle on Melissa's finger, he added, "And your appetite. Want to give it a go?"

Nodding, she let him place the baby at her left breast, wincing for just a second as her daughter latched onto her sensitive nipple. As her milk began to flow and the baby started sucking greedily, she closed her eyes, too tired to stay awake any longer.

Jack watched adoringly as first mother, then daughter, fell asleep. Picking up his child, he rocked her gently against him, silent tears anointing the infant's head. Even then, the colors of the blanket wrapped around her were beginning to mute.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joy Harkness lived for four days. Matthew named her, saying she made everyone happy when she smiled. And she did. She was quite the charmer, laughing, smiling and blowing raspberries at everyone she met. It was obvious from the start that she wasn't completely human; her mental development was closer to a six-month old rather than an infant, but no one, not even Gwen, seemed surprised.

Gwen and Rhys cut short their honeymoon when Ianto called and told them of the baby's condition. They arrived on the third day, when Joy's health was beginning to deteriorate, but she was happy and content even then. Tosh made an origami mobile for her out of construction paper and old reports, and the few times the baby was not in someone's arms, she stared up at the paper cranes from her crib, a look of fascination on her face.

Owen kept close, monitoring Joy's condition, although there wasn't anything thing he could do about it. He did offer to kidnap a pediatric surgical team and bring them to the Hub, but Jack thought he was joking. Owen wasn't sure if he was, but let it go. He was worried about his other patient, but couldn't chide Melissa for not resting. Everyone knew there wasn't much time, especially her.

Susan stayed away, never even calling. Ianto begged, pleaded, and on the fourth day threatened to leave her, but she held her ground. Not understanding her obstinacy, he spent his days and nights at the Hub, coordinating food deliveries and keeping the coffee fresh when he wasn't comforting Matthew or singing ridiculous songs to the baby.

On the last day, it was apparent that time was growing short. Joy no longer had the strength to suckle; her body was an appalling grey; and she slept for longer and longer periods of time. By unspoken consent, everyone retreated to the conference room, giving Jack and Melissa the privacy to say their final goodbyes. Near the end, she woke, a hint of a smile on her face. Wrapping her in the blanket that was now almost white, they took her outside, wanting to show her the stars before she closed her eyes one final time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hours later, Jack walked into the conference room, tear tracks evident on his face. "She's gone."

He held Matthew as the young man cried, noting with little surprise that Owen had bolted out of the room as soon as he had entered. Dr. Harper was going to get very, very shit-faced, and it some ways Jack wished he could join him, the sorrow of losing his daughter so quickly nearly overwhelming him.

Tosh was torn between following Owen and staying, so Jack merely jerked his head towards the door, giving her permission to chase after the doctor, not that it would do any good. Rhys comforted Gwen, which left Ianto standing alone in his grief. Jack hoped Susan would not pick this time to finally show up; he wasn't sure how he would react, but felt sorry for the girl all the same. She had missed meeting her sister, and would never have another chance.

As Matthew calmed, Jack held him by the shoulders, looking his son in the eyes, wondering when he had gotten so tall. "Your mom wants to see you. We need to be strong for her, okay?"

The teen stared into Jack's eyes and saw all his pent up grief. "I'll be strong for both of you."

That was enough to break the Captain's defenses. Collapsing into a chair, he put his head on the conference table and quietly sobbed. When he finally stopped, Ianto was the only one in the room.

"Matthew went to be with Melissa, but he didn't want you to be alone. Gwen and Rhys went home for a while. They haven't slept since yesterday morning." He handed Jack a cup of hot coffee.

Taking out his handkerchief, Jack wiped his nose before picking up the coffee. "Thanks. I don't think anyone's slept much, least of all you. Why don't you go home?"

Emotionlessly, Ianto responded, "It's a little tense there right now."

"Someone's got to tell her, Ianto, and it's not going to be me." Jack sipped his coffee, thinking. "If you're hell bent on staying, I need you to find a place where we can bury our daughter. I can't imagine putting her in the vaults. Can you do that for me?"

"I can try, sir," Ianto answered formally, grateful to be entrusted with such an important task and just as grateful for an excuse to stay away from Susan for a while longer.

In the end, they could find no resting place secure enough to trust with the infant's body. They held a small memorial service in the Hub, deciding to honor the baby's life in the only place she had known. In addition to Matthew and Torchwood, the Brigadier attended, as well as a blond woman dressed in jeans and a purple leather jacket. Her face lined with sorrow and fatigue, she spoke to no one besides Melissa and Jack, disappearing with a bright flash before the ceremony began. Susan was conspicuous by her absence.

Crowding into the makeshift nursery, they sadly looked at the tiny bundle that lay in the crib, covered completely in a white blanket, a string of colorful origami cranes draped on top. Jack spoke briefly, thanking everyone for their support. He then addressed Owen, expressing his gratitude for the doctor's efforts and compassion. Dr. Harper merely grunted, not one to accept praise easily, especially when he felt like such a failure.

Melissa spoke of their daughter, remembering her smiles and unconditional love. She thanked everyone for sharing in her life, and sharing in the grief of her passing. Then, she took the sonic blaster and carefully disintegrated the crib, her hands steady as she watched in silence as the remains of her daughter disappeared forever.

Clasping hands, Melissa and Jack graciously accepted the sympathy of everyone in the room before retreating to their home and their own private grief.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I wish I could talk you out of coming with me." Jack wistfully glanced at the stars he could see from his rooftop perch, wondering if he would ever travel among them again.

"You know it will be better with two. There's some madman on one of the lower levels and a suicidal captain on the bridge." Melissa, too, looked at the stars, though she merely speculated on how long it would be before they starting going out.

"I could take someone else," he argued half-heartedly.

"Someone else who can pilot a fusion storm drive?" She put her hand in his. "It'll be fine," she affirmed with a confidence she did not feel. Rose had come to visit her unexpectedly the day before. Why else but to say goodbye?

"You could teach Tosh." He gave her a lop-sided grin, reassuring her that he was only grumbling about the inevitable.

"Not in six hours, and I can think of much better ways of spending my time." She gave him an appreciative smirk, trailing her hand along his chest.

"Are you sure you're ready for that?" It had barely been three weeks, and she had just started working a few days ago.

"Time Lord, remember? Physically, I'm perfect."

She paused, trying to convey her thoughts without revealing her fears. "I want to be joined with you tonight, mind, body and soul. I want you to feel the passion I have for you, to know that my hearts quicken every time you smile."

Slowly, she removed his braces. "I want you to feel how my body warms each time you touch me. I want to push you up against a wall and make you come again and again. I want you inside of me. I want to feel your essence fill me as you push me to the brink of losing control. Tonight, Jack, I want all of you."

Already entwined in his mind, she paused for a moment to look into his eyes. "That okay with you?"

"Yeah," he breathed hoarsely, not trusting himself to form a coherent sentence. "Very okay."

Later, they made a game of finding their clothes on the rooftop, finally dressing at the last minute. That night, they had a date with the Titanic, and if they weren't successful, then the entire world would perish, along with the proper timeline.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Let me reiterate just how much I hate that teleport." Melissa sat on the floor of the dining room of the spaceship from Sto, trying to clear her head as the room spun lazily around her.

"Beggars can't be choosers." Jack smiled cheerfully as he pulled her to her feet with a kiss. Together, they hacked into one of the information terminals, giving the information angels a wide berth.

"Shit. It's going to take forever to reach that asshole Capricorn. I was hoping we could neutralize him before any of this started. Keep your comm on; I'll contact you when I finish him." Giving her hand a tight squeeze, he left.

Hurrying towards the bridge, Melissa tried not to worry. The Doctor had managed; surely she could as well.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Waking to a haze of pain, Melissa stared at the blood pooling at her side. With a weak groan, she remembered stepping in front of the young officer just as the captain of the Titanitc hadfired his weapon. She had hoped that the midshipman could maintain the hull shields in the midst of the meteor storm. It had not worked. The young man lay dead in a pool of his own blood, shot neatly in the head.

Mustering every possible ounce of energy and control, she stood shakily on the bridge, noting with dispassion the dead body of the captain lying near the door. She staggered to the ship's controls only to find that the engines were indeed offline. What remained of the ship was listing badly, slowly being pulled towards the Earth's atmosphere.

Fumbling to get the sonic screwdriver out of her pocket, she looked at it blankly. The tip had broken off during her fall; it was useless. So too was her communication device, which was now in several jagged pieces. Jack would not know that she needed help; she was on her own.

Briefly, she considered her options. The ship could not crash into the Earth with the engines offline. It would cause a chain reaction that would rip the planet to pieces. She had to get the engines started before impact.

A shudder vibrated through the ship as a chunk of the first class cabins tore away and began its plummet to the surface below. Yes! She could let gravity do the work and start the engines with the force of the dive. With any luck, the storm drive would start with enough time for her to pull up and make a quick ascent, avoiding collision altogether.

A pounding from the other side of the door interrupted her thoughts. Bracing herself against the console and large pieces of debris, she slowly made her way to the door, each step making her chest burn as if on fire.

"Let me in, damn it, Melissa!" Jack pounded frantically, panicked that she had not answered him once in the time it had taken him to kill Max Capricorn.

"Jack!" It hurt to call out to him, but she didn't care. If she could just get to him, maybe they stood a chance.

"Open the door! The teleport can't lock onto the bridge!" Impatiently, he waited for the door to open, but it stayed obstinately shut.

"I can't. It's deadlock sealed and the captain's the only one with the override." Pausing a moment to breathe, she added unnecessarily, "He's dead."

"Sonic it!" he screamed, momentarily forgetting the screwdriver's limitations.

"Broken." Leaning heavily against the wall, she fought to stay conscious. "You have to leave. I'm going to put the ship into a dive to start the engines. If I don't pull up in time, the impact will create a small nuclear explosion, but the rest of the Earth will be safe."

"I'm not leaving without you! Do you hear me? Find a way to let me in! I can teleport us both off if you just get this door open!"

"I love you," she sobbed, knowing that she didn't have any more time to waste.

He started banging on the door again, screaming for her not to give up, but even he knew the odds were decreasing with each second. "I'm staying with you. I won't leave you. Melissa, do you hear me? I'll be right here!"

"You have to, Jack. You may be immortal, but you can't help anyone if you're radioactive! You have to be around to fight the Sontarans, remember?"

She could feel him kicking the door in rage, and she knew she had finally won the argument. "I've been shot, Jack. I've got to do this now. I don't know how much time is left." With a strangled sob, she pressed her face against the unyielding metal. "Promise me you'll leave. Promise me you'll take care of the kids. Promise me you'll remember."

"Don't do this," he begged, knowing that it was an impossible request.

"I've got to. I'm sorry."

"I love you too, Sweetheart," he whispered as he reluctantly teleported to the safety of the Hub. When the ship impacted, he felt her death. The broken bond hurt every bit as much as she had warned him it would. But he wouldn't have changed one damned thing.

* * *

><p>Author's Notes - I know many of you will be upset after reading this chapter. It was a difficult one to write. I promise I didn't do it merely to toy with anyone's emotions. It does impact the later chapters, and the sequel. And, I have to warn you, there isn't a whole lot of fluff in subsequent chapters, although it certainly isn't all tragedy and angst. On the plus side, the Doctor appears again. And, this is the point where I finally found my sea legs and this story goes well outside Doctor Who canon. It begins hours after <em>Journey's End<em>.

Reviews are definitely appreciated. Now, more than ever, I'd like to hear your opinions, even if they aren't positive. I'd like to thank padmay97, dwatlaskrhtcm and Mrs. 11th for their reviews of the last chapter. Thank you for reading.


	46. A Terrible Last Time Lord

Author's Notes - Thanks to MaryMatthesen, The OnyxRose, padmay97 and dwatlaskrhtcm for their reviews of the last chapter. And, if you're like TheOnxyRose and wondering where the Doctor is, he's in this chapter, which begins where _Journey's End_ leaves off. Fair warning, events go strictly AU from this point onwards.

* * *

><p>Captain Jack Harkness nursed a glass of Glenn Fiddich as he watched his Torchwood team celebrate the end of a very long day. The Earth had been moved, invaded by Daleks and nearly wiped out with the whole of reality in the space of a few short hours. Just about everyone present had been involved in thwarting those plans, and the party had really kicked in about an hour ago. But, Jack couldn't help feeling that there was still something terribly wrong.<p>

Forcing a smile, he watched Gwen retell the story of how she and Ianto were saved from death by a time lock Tosh had perfected before her death. Rhys, who had Gwen on his lap, looked less impressed than irate that his spouse had nearly been exterminated by a Dalek in the first place.

But that was probably only fair, Jack thought morosely. He was upset at that little detail as well. Mostly, he was distressed that he had assumed Gwen and Ianto would be secure in the Hub while he ran after the Doctor to face the Daleks once again. Maybe the knowledge that they had been saved by a fluke was what was causing his stomach to tense with anxiety.

His descent into self-loathing and might-have-been was cut short by the arrival of Mickey Smith and Martha Jones, who were both carrying three large boxes of pizza.

"Took you long enough," Jack teased, forcing cheeriness he did not feel.

"Oi! You try to find a pizza place open all night after an alien invasion next time, Captain Sparrow!" Mickey grinned heartily, glad the Torchwood leader had let him tag along after his decision to stay in his rightful universe.

Food was a welcome diversion from his unease, and Jack joined the group to eat a very late supper, or extremely early breakfast, depending on one's point of view. The fact that he had managed to insult Rhys, convince Mickey and Martha to join Torchwood, and make Gwen blush at one of the stories he had been saving for just such an occasion should have snapped him out of his dark mood, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something important. Even Ianto's promise to stay did nothing to dispel his disquiet.

Staring distractedly at Tosh's old workstation, he was caught off guard when Martha's phone began to ring.

"Hello?" A tipsy Martha Jones answered her phone, expecting to hear from her fiancé. "Well hold on, Mr. Grumpy-pants; he's right here!"

Speaking very loudly, she handed her mobile to Jack. "It's the Doctor, and be careful; he's in a right mood. Don't know what you've done to make him mad this time. You didn't grope Rose before leaving, did you?" She snorted, laughing at her own joke.

Jack wondered if she had said that loud enough for the Doctor to hear on purpose, or if she was really that drunk. "Thanks, Martha."

"Doc, what can I do for you?"

"Captain," the Doctor answered, his voice clipped and cold. "You are going to listen to me; you are not going to interrupt; you are going to make that team of yours do as I say; and you are going to do it post-haste. Do I make myself clear?"

Without pausing for a response, the Time Lord continued. "One, a human brain can't handle a Time Lord metacrisis. I had to wipe all memory of me from Donna. If she remembers, even for a second, her mind will burn. Get your people to erase her name from every computer file that might link her to me. Contact Sarah Jane Smith and UNIT and tell them the situation, and for Rassilon's sake, Jack, don't approach Donna yourself, ever. One moment of remembering could kill her."

"Two," the Doctor continued at a frenetic pace, barely pausing for breath. "Tell Martha to get back to Germany and retrieve that Osterhagen key and the teleport device. Both are far too dangerous to leave lying around. Do whatever it takes to get those nukes dismantled. I haven't saved the Earth more times than I care to remember for some idiot to blow it up."

"B, I sent Rose back with me and Jackie to Pete's World. She's fine; he's fine. The walls have closed. End of discussion."

"Five, set your teleport base code to three, seven, eight. I'm in Colorado. Jack, it's Melissa."

At her name his voice cracked. Jack suddenly realized that the cold, hard edge to the Doctor was not righteous anger, but the desperate attempt to hold back a grief that threatened to bring him to tears. He was horribly afraid of what his friend would say next.

"She . . . . There are Dalek casings here. And her mind, Jack. So much pain. I can't help her. I've tried, really I have, but- I can't find Susan and Matthew. They need to be here. There's not much time left. And I'm sorry; I'm so, very, very sorry, Captain. I can't fix this."

Stunned, he instinctively knew that this was what had been bothering him ever since he had left the TARDIS. He had always intended to beg her forgiveness once the sting of Gray's betrayal and the guilt he harbored had subsided somewhat. Now, he might never have the chance.

Shattered, now it was he who had to fight for control of his voice. "I'll find them and be there as soon as I send my team out. I won't be long, Doc."

"Doctor?" His friend had not responded, but he could hear the static of the open line.

After a few ragged breaths audible over the phone, a very subdued Time Lord slowly responded. "Jack. I need to tell you one more thing. I'm proud of what you've done with Torchwood and that team of yours. You make a brilliant Defender of the Earth, and I just wanted to thank you."

With that, the line went dead before the Captain could do more than open his mouth in shock. A shudder went through him, and he was suddenly more fearful than he had been on the Dalek Crucible. For the Doctor to be that open with his feelings meant that something else was very wrong in Colorado.

Eyes locking with Ianto, who had come up unnoticed beside him during the conversation, Jack raised his voice over the din. "Party's over, people! Conference room, now! We have work to do." And with that, Torchwood roared back into business.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shutting off his mobile, the Doctor leaned against the back door of Melissa's house. He had done all he could, and Jack would fine. Better than fine, really, he would be brilliant. His friend would find Susan and Matthew, and take care of them just as he had promised those many years ago. Oh, he didn't imagine it would be easy, or that the two teenagers would be more than a blip on the Captain's immortal lifeline, but they could console each other now.

He was so, so tired. It was tempting just to slide down and begin a very long-awaited rest, but the need to help Melissa, if only in a small way, stopped him. It was approaching dusk, and she must have been lying outside for several hours. It would not do for her to die of hypothermia before Jack could arrive. He did not have the strength to carry her, but he could at least manage to cover her with a blanket. Picking the lock with the sonic screwdriver, he made it as far as the linen closet in the kids' hallway before he fell unconscious to the floor.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gwen, Ianto, Mickey, Martha and Rhys were quietly assembled around the conference table waiting for Jack to tell them just what the hell was going on. He didn't make them wait long. Standing with his arms crossed, he quickly explained.

"That was the Doctor. There are some repercussions from today that need our immediate attention. First, Donna Noble suffered severe memory loss from the metacrisis. If she remembers anything about the Doctor, she'll die. Mickey, I want you on the computer wiping every file you can find that links Donna with him. Torchwood, UNIT, Home Office, crazy conspiracy theory websites, I don't care; wipe them clean.

"On it, Boss," Mickey replied, making a move to leave.

Immediately, Jack put his hand up. "Wait, Mick, you might as well hear the rest." Glancing down the table, he continued, "Gwen, go to UNIT and explain the do not contact order. Stress that it's from the Doctor. Then, visit Sarah Jane Smith and tell her the same. None of us is to see Donna ever again. It's just too dangerous."

She nodded, and Jack went onto the next topic. "Ianto, I want you and Martha to go to Germany to retrieve the Osterhagen Key and Project Indigo. We're to take custody per the Doctor's instructions. Commandeer a military transport if you have to, but get there as soon as possible. Contact Rhys at the Hub as soon as you have possession of both."

"What?" sputtered Rhys. "Just where are you going to be, then?"

Glancing in Ianto's direction, Jack gave him a silent apology before he replied. "The Doctor needs me for something. I might be gone for a few days."

"What's going on, Jack?" Near death had scared Gwen more than she cared to admit, and she worried about his mission. "Does this have anything to do with the Daleks? Are they back?"

Damn, he was going to have to tell them. He did not need his team distracted by nonexistent aliens. "No," he answered gruffly, swallowing against the lump in his throat. "I need to get to Colorado. My . . . Melissa Morgan's had another stroke."

Before anyone could respond, Ianto quietly asked, "Didn't Owen say that would likely kill her?"

"She's not expected to make it." He continued brusquely, not giving anyone time comment. "Okay, you've all got a job to do. Get going!"

Gwen and Rhys filed out quickly, glancing sympathetically at the Captain. Mickey followed, stopping next to Jack, opening his mouth to say something, then thinking better of it. He patted the immortal man on the shoulder before walking out the door. Ianto followed, putting his arms around his lover.

"I'm sorry."

Drawing him into a tight hug, Jack whispered, "Thank you".

That left Martha, but she had not moved from her seat. Instead, she was nervously twisting her engagement ring around her finger.

"I know you want to help, Martha. But the Doctor said he couldn't fix it this time." When she made no move to leave, he finished, "I've got to go. Susan and Matthew are missing, and I really need to find them."

Just as he was punching the code to hone in on the kids' location into his Vortex Manipulator, Martha blurted out, "Wait Jack. I can help you. She, well, Melissa's got a watch. She's got a fob watch, Jack."

He froze, his fingers hovering over his wrist strap, certain he had heard incorrectly. "What did you say?" His own voice was now clipped and cold, mirroring the Doctor's earlier tone.

Martha stood facing Jack. Her hands were ramrod straight at her sides, the ring on her finger forgotten. She had the same look of determination on her face that she had worn when confronting the Master at the end of that nightmare year.

"You heard me exactly right, Jack Harkness. Melissa Morgan is a chameleon-arched Time Lord. Her son keeps her watch in that backpack he carries everywhere. As far as I know, he has no idea what it signifies. If she's dying, you can open the watch. She can regenerate."

"How?" he asked himself, obviously saying it out loud as well because Martha snapped a reply.

"Doesn't matter how. It just matters that you hurry."

He nodded curtly. She was right; the questions and recriminations could wait. Punching the final set of coordinates into the teleport, he disappeared.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He reappeared in the middle of a wide, dimly lit corridor filled with the stench of death. Punching up a display on his wrist computer, he swore quietly under his breath. He was inside the Pentagon.

Methodically, he started to search for Susan and Matthew among the bodies in the corridor, hoping for once that his computer was not working correctly. Why the hell would they be here? His task was made easier by the fact that the vast majority of the dead were wearing military uniforms of one sort or the other. Still, it took him a while to find the teenagers.

They were lying on the floor in a corner, almost touching, their sightless eyes staring at the acoustical tiles on the ceiling. Forcing back a sob, Jack tenderly closed their eyes, and then sat heavily next to them on the cold floor. For a moment, he didn't know what to do—his grief was overwhelming. Then hundreds of years of bitter experience kicked in, and he began to search for Matthew's backpack amid the carnage. He found it undamaged about twenty yards away. The boy must have dropped it as he ran from the Daleks who had targeted the massive building.

Jack quickly emptied the backpack, focused on his goal. The main compartment held a guide book to Washington, D.C., a ticket stub from the Washington Monument, a letter from Tommy Frakes inviting them to come see where he worked, a digital camera, an IPod, three granola bars and a squashed penny. Placing the camera and IPod in his coat pocket, he opened the front compartment and found Matthew's wallet and a silver fob watch with scorch marks on the back.

He clutched the watch as he heard footsteps echo farther down the hallway. He didn't have time to explain his presence. Tapping the coordinates to Melissa's house into his computer, he flashed out of existence.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was dark in Colorado Springs when he materialized in front of her home. He tried the front door, but it was locked, and no one answered the bell. Deciding it would be less conspicuous to break into the back, he circled around the house. Light flooded the backyard as his movement triggered the motion sensitive flood lamps.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a Dalek casing. Spinning, he brought his gun out reflexively and fired a shot. Way to get spooked, he thought ruefully as he realized that the Dalek was no more than an empty shell. Turning back towards the house, he spied Melissa, and his breath hitched. She was lying on the patio near the back door, her hands wrapped around her head.

Running to her, Jack gently pulled her hands away. She was limp, cold and barely breathing. Where the hell was the Doctor? He had counted on the Time Lord to make the decision to open the watch, but suddenly it was up to him. She did not have much time left, if it wasn't too late already. Was her mind already too damaged for even the watch to repair? And just who would he be unleashing?

Surprisingly serene, he tenderly stroked her cheek. He didn't understand why his doubts had fled, but he knew what to do. Placing the watch in her hand, he quickly opened it and took several steps back.

Strands of light erupted from the timepiece, bathing her in a golden glow. She tensed and arched her back in a guttural scream of agony before going slack. In an instant, the light surrounding her disappeared.

He could see no visible difference in her human and Time Lord self. Pressing his fingers against her neck, he noted the familiar double pulse of a Time Lord, it was erratic and her body was much too cold, even for her species. Pulling her onto his lap, he arranged his wool coat around her. Debating whether to take her into the house or teleport her straight to Torchwood, he began to set the coordinates on the teleport when she started to stir.

"Jack?"

She sounded very confused, and tears were falling down her face, but she was conscious, and that gave him a sense of relief so profound that it frightened him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Cold." Her eyes started to close once again.

"Melissa," he called sharply, not knowing how else to address her. "Do you know where you are?"

"Titanic?" She tried to make sense of her jumbled memories, but all she really wanted to do was go back to sleep.

"NO!" He all but screamed his denial. That one word conjured feelings of all consuming loss and grief and pain, and for an instant, he saw himself pounding on white metal.

"Jack?" She managed to open her eyes, concern for him pushing the lethargy from her chilled body.

"It's okay. You're safe. You're at home."

"Cardiff?" She didn't understand. Why was his mind closed to her? She could feel their bond like a comforting presence, along with . . . . "You opened the watch."

"Yes." Why did she think she was in Cardiff? Did she have brain damage? Was she missing months of memories this time? "You've got hypothermia. I'm going to get you warm."

As he carefully stood up with her bundled in his arms, she trailed her finger along his jaw. "You don't remember."

"Remember what?"

She gave no reply, letting her eyes close once again and her mind drift. It hurt too much to be awake.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When he realized that she had fallen unconscious, he rushed her inside, placing her underneath the covers on her bed. He was an idiot for not taking her inside immediately; the night air was frigid and uncommonly damp.

As he briskly rubbed her right arm, she mumbled, "I thought I was dreaming."

"Melissa, you need to listen. Focus. What's the last thing you remember?" He continued to rub her arm until she grabbed his hand.

"Putting the Titanic into a dive to start the engines. No, wait, that was the alternate reality." Grimacing, she dropped his hand to rub her temples. "My head hurts. Something happened. The Doctor came to visit. He brought a new companion; her name's Donna, Donna Noble. But, they left. And the kids left. And then he died and I opened the watch."

Holding her head tightly as if she were keeping it from splitting open, she gasped. "Wrong, I can sense he's alive; that was the alternate. Why can't I keep it separate? My head's splitting, Jack. The kids, they're on a trip. I was outside and it got dark. Something horrible happened. I saw something that shouldn't be." With a ragged cry, she begged, "What's happened to me? I can't remember."

Patiently, he tried to get through to her without breaking down himself. Hearing her so lost and suffering tore his heart, and he hadn't even told her about the kids. "You had a migraine. I opened the watch, and I think you're a little confused right now."

"Not a migraine. Temporary human-Time Lord biological metacrisis. Very dangerous. Get the Doctor; he can help." She squeezed her head tighter, the pain suddenly spiking. "Get. The. Doctor."

"He's not here."

"Yes, he is! I can sense him. Get him NOW!" She was wrapped into a tight ball, her hands gripping her head in sheer agony.

Racing out of the room, Jack ran to the front door, intending to search for the TARDIS, but stopped abruptly at the entrance to the hallway near the den.

"God, no."

Cautiously, he approached the still form of the Doctor and turned him over. The sight of him made Jack despair. Fevered, his brow dripped sweat, the skin around his eyes seemed to have sunken; his eyelids had turned purplish black, giving his face the appearance of a skull. His left heart had stopped and his right raced in an odd dissonant rhythm. Not knowing what was wrong with his friend, but fearing he could do little to help him, Jack raced back to Melissa.

She hadn't moved; she appeared to be frozen in a haze of pain. He wasn't even sure she would understand him, but he had to try. "The Doctor's sick or hurt; I don't know which. He can't help you."

She sucked in a huge breath, prying open her eyes. "It has to be you, then. I need to you go into my mind, Jack. Help me."

"I can't," he protested vehemently. "I don't know what I'm doing. I could end up hurting you worse!"

"You have to! You're the only one right now who can." Going beyond the pain, she pushed herself up to beseech him. "Please, Jack. You've done it before; you just don't remember."

She was clearly delirious; there was no way he could make such a deep mental connection. Holding her by the shoulders, he meant to tell her he was sorry, but found himself transported to a precipice of sharp, rust colored stone in the midst of a frenzied storm of dust and debris. Shading his eyes, he could make out a dark shape suspended over the chasm. Taking a few guarded steps to stand at the very edge, he realized that the shape was Melissa, naked, tied spread-eagled by four ropes, every inch of her skin dripping blood from the deep scratches the gale was carving into her.

"MELISSA!"

Her head snapped up, and she looked at him with a fierce determination. Vainly, she tugged at the ropes, and he was heartened to see that she had not given up.

"Help me," she pleaded as she pulled at her bindings, cringing as the wind whipped into her skin.

"How?" There was no way to cross to her. He couldn't even see where the ropes were attached to the rock.

"Mind over matter, Jack!" He hesitated, even as a comforting sense of déjà vu spread through him. Taking his hesitation as a refusal, her head slumped against her chest and the tempest tinged red with her blood.

"NO!" Jack launched himself from the edge, landing on air to stand in front of her. His face stung from the impact of the storm's detritus, but he ignored it as he cut the ropes and cradled her limp form in his arms.

Outpacing the gale, he sat with her in a vast field of red grass, wiping her blood away with a handkerchief. With each stroke of the cloth, her cuts and scrapes disappeared. Gently, he went over every inch of her body, until her skin was flawless, save for the scars on her back. Finished, he kissed her tenderly on the lips.

"I think you can wake up now, Sleeping Beauty."

Like the fairy tale, her eyes opened, and she stared up at him with a soft smile on her face. "Do you remember?"

"No," he told her sadly, only understanding that he was missing something profound. Seeing the smile on her face crumple, he added quickly, "but I want to."

Hating to ask the question, he did nonetheless. "Do you remember?"

Instantaneously, she was standing before him wearing a black military uniform that seemed very familiar, although it was not one he recognized. The grass was gone, replaced by a concrete bunker.

"Dirty, stinking, filthy Daleks! I swear they are the cockroaches of the universe. I assume they've been sent back to whatever hellhole they came from, or you wouldn't have time to open the watch."

She looked at him quizzically. "How did the Doctor finally see it? What's happened to him? You said he was sick?"

Finally noticing the stricken look on his face, she became apprehensive. "What's wrong with the Doctor, Jack?"

"I don't know. I found him lying unconscious in the hallway near Matthew's bedroom. Only one heart is beating, and it looks like he has a fever. He's alone; we need to help him."

"The kids aren't with him?" She watched his entire body tense and his eyes become shiny with tears.

"Where are Susan and Matthew?" But in her hearts, she already knew the answer.

"They were at the Pentagon when the Daleks attacked. I'm sorry."

She swayed, as if she might faint, but then she straightened, her manner rigid and distant. "Right. We need to help the Doctor. Back into your own mind, Jack."

Abruptly, he was sitting on her bed, reeling from the sensation of being in her mind. He wanted to comfort her, but as soon as her eyes snapped open, she hopped out of the bed without so much as a word to him. Hurrying to catch up, he found her kneeling beside the Doctor, a fleeting, pensive expression on her face.

"What the hell did the Daleks do to him? It looks like he tried unsuccessfully to regenerate." Angry, she snapped, "Damn it, Jack, tell me what happened to him!"

"He did regenerate, sort of. A Dalek shot him, and he regenerated, but he used some of the energy to heal himself and put the rest into the hand the Sycorax chopped off." Seeing her look of disbelief, he shrugged. "At least that's what he said."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Not giving him a chance to reply, she put her hands on the Doctor's face and closed her eyes.

After a few seconds, she opened her eyes and pulled her hands away. "You self-sacrificing idiot! You are not going to do this to me, do you understand? I just found you! This isn't supposed to happen, not like this!"

Her voice grew more shrill with every rant, and she might have continued if not for Jack. "I don't think he can hear you," he told her quietly.

Shocked at the interruption, Melissa stared at him blankly as the fight drained out of her. "I know," she responded in a hollow voice. Turning back to the Doctor, she carefully straightened the most unruly parts of his hair. "Would you please put him on Matthew's bed?"

Laying the Doctor on Matthew's bottom bunk, Jack removed the Time Lord's still wet clothing, changing him into a pair of Matthew's pajama bottoms and covering him with a sheet. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's dying." Leaning against the wall, she rubbed her teary eyes.

"What do you mean he's dying? He was fine just a few hours ago." He couldn't, wouldn't, accept what she was telling him. They had won; the Daleks were gone. The Doctor couldn't die, not now.

Her grief manifested as anger and she lashed out at the only person who could hear her. "He wasn't fine just a few hours ago! He just let all of you think he was, and everyone assumed the rest. He knew he was dying the moment he saw himself walk out of the TARDIS with that weapon! If he hadn't come here, he would have died alone because none of you could be bothered to stay with him!"

Stung, he pleaded for an explanation. "He practically kicked us out, told me he had to get Rose and her mother home before the walls closed again. I halfway thought he would stay there. What's wrong with him? What does that other Doctor have to do with it? Please, I'm trying to understand."

Twisting the end of her dirty shirt, she swallowed the bile in her throat. "He needed to regenerate, but he knew that he couldn't go through regeneration sickness while Davros was playing his little games. So, he healed his injuries and placed the rest of the energy into that hand receptacle. Completely mad, that. Regeneration's an all or nothing process. He must have intended to absorb the stored energy and regenerate once the crisis was over. But the metacrisis made that impossible."

Not realizing Jack had put his arm around her, she was surprised to find herself leaning against him. Her voice cracked. "Oh, Jack, his body's too weak. His injuries are reappearing, and his organs are beginning to fail."

"There's got to be something, or are you just giving up?"

Too exhausted to feel insulted, she started to pace, twisting her shirt and thinking out loud. "If I had a medical TARDIS, then it would be easy. I could force another regeneration using the Rassilon imprimatur. Although, I really only have to find a substitute for the regeneration energy, something that would stabilize his organs and heal the Dalek blast, which wouldn't necessarily lead to a regeneration. Much less energy needed that way. If I could find something to give his body a template. . . . Perfect!"

She kissed the Captain soundly on the lips, grinning madly. "Thank you, Jack. Now, for this to work, I'll need a doctor to assist me and some medical supplies."

Her sudden optimism was infectious. "I'll get Martha. Just tell me what else you need."

Her demeanor was suddenly cold, and her eyes flashed an icy anger. "You must think I'm stupid."

"What?"

"If you think I haven't figured out who told you about the watch, then you've forgotten a lot more than I thought. If I see her, I'll. . ."

She couldn't even say it. She wanted to wring Martha's neck and watch the life drain out of her body in revenge for Susan and Matthew's death, but it was only a twisted fantasy. It wouldn't bring her children back. Besides, Martha had spent a year running from that Bastard as she saved the world. Maybe she'd already been punished enough. Still, she didn't relish the thought of having to see her too perky face.

"Melissa, she's-"

"What? Sorry? They're dead! And I could've protected them! I could have protected him!"

Rubbing her forehead out of habit, she took a deep breath, and when she spoke again her emotions were tightly controlled. "When you bring Martha, I'll need two bags of glucose, a feeding tube and an IV."

Finding the Doctor's sonic screwdriver in his coat pocket, she grabbed Jack's wrist and quickly repaired the time travel facet of his Vortex Manipulator. "No matter how long it takes, I need you to be back here in five minutes. Just be-make sure you don't run into yourself, okay?" She wanted to tell him so much more, but there wasn't time.

"Yeah." Something was off; she was hiding something from him, but he did need to hurry. Instead of bombarding her with useless questions, he programmed his Vortex Manipulator and disappeared.

Alone with the Doctor, Melissa uselessly added a blanket to the bed before sitting down. Tenderly, she held his frail hand. "You can't die, you know. I make a terrible last Time Lord."

He didn't answer, nor had she expected him to. He was perilously close to death already. She couldn't even reach his mind. Stifling a sob, she placed a soft kiss on his fevered cheek. She wished he would know that she was with him at the end, no matter how briefly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Four minutes and forty-seven seconds later, Jack reappeared with Martha Jones in tow. Melissa didn't greet the woman in any way; she simply threw out orders in her general direction. "Insert the nasogastric tube and administer the bags of glucose. I'll be with you in fifteen minutes."

"You can't just feed him glucose! He'll go into shock!" She didn't trust the Time Lord standing next to the Doctor wearing Melissa Morgan's face.

"Not human, Dr. Jones. Or have you forgotten? He doesn't process nutrients the same way you do. As long as his digestive system hasn't completely shut down, the glucose will temporarily stabilize him until I can get some things out of the TARDIS." She glared at Martha, daring her to argue.

"Martha," Jack added, trying to placate her, "you promised me you'd help."

"Fine, Jack," she snapped. "Just don't be surprised when she kills him."

"Enough." Melissa practically growled, almost losing her temper, but she managed to hold it tightly in check. "You're wasting time. Get started. I'll be back within the quarter hour."

Following her into the den, Jack grabbed her arm. "Tell me what you need out of the TARDIS."

"You can't help me. I need you to do something else." Sniffing back her tears, she wanted nothing more than to collapse against him and feel his comforting embrace, but there was no time. Instead, she gave his arm a brief squeeze.

"He's angered the Shadow Proclamation. The Shadow Architect impounded the TARDIS and commanded him to lead an army, but he managed to run. They'll be coming after him, and will most likely start with the Earth first."

"That's not good." Jack knew from harsh experience how uncompromising the Shadow Proclamation could be. It would not matter to them that the Doctor had managed to save the universe without their assistance. "How long do we have?"

"A week, maybe two. It depends on how fast their ships are at the moment."

She studied him, wanting to capture his intense blue eyes, rugged jaw and that incredible mouth in her memory, fearing that it might be the last time she ever saw him. It took her a moment to realize he was speaking.

"I'll have Gwen contact what's left of UNIT and get them here. They can set up a secure perimeter, but it won't hold the Judoon for long. Melissa?" She was staring at him, mute.

Shaking herself from her reverie, she answered distractedly. "Fine, but I was thinking of a more permanent solution."

"What?" He was ready to try anything.

"Earth's only a level five planet, so technically the Shadow Proclamation has no jurisdiction over its citizens. If the Doctor were a citizen. . . ."

"Yes! The Shadow Proclamation can't legally touch him while he's on Earth! Brilliant! The UN's already in emergency session; it shouldn't be too difficult to get them to offer the Doctor citizenship. He did just save the planet, after all. Never thought I'd see the day when the UN discusses the aftermath of a Dalek invasion in open session, though." The Captain's optimism was back full force.

A hint of a genuine smile formed on her face. "The twenty-first century is when everything changes, Jack. Thought you knew that. You've said it often enough."

As he gave her a tired grin, she pulled him into a passionate embrace, kissing him fiercely. "I know you're probably wondering right now, but I am the woman you love. And I love you." She gave him a teary smile. "And I don't regret a thing."

Suddenly troubled, he opened his mouth to speak, but she activated his teleport with the sonic screwdriver before he could form any words. Racing down the hill, she found the TARDIS in her usual spot parked amid the aspen trees.

"They're not really silver, are they, old girl? But they are pretty." Taking out the Doctor's key, she opened the door, walked past the console and took a left turn in the hallway to find the infirmary.

Taking out the necessary equipment, her shaking hands betrayed her nervousness. "Easy peasy, easy as pie, easier said than done," she mumbled as she stuck the needle in her arm to start drawing blood. Her healthy cells would provide the necessary template for the Doctor's body, and her blood would provide the energy. Problem was, the Doctor needed an awful lot of energy.

Lightheaded, she watched the infirmary swim in and out of focus as her blood filled the third bag. She needed to hurry; it had already been eight minutes and Martha would be waiting. Her hands felt so cold that she was barely able to switch to the next bag, and spilled some of the precious fluid as she fumbled with the opening. Against her will, her eyes were blinking closed, but she used every trick she had to maintain tenuous control.

When the fourth bag filled, she thought of trying for a fifth, but knew that it was impossible. If she lost consciousness before reaching him, her death would be in vain, and there had been too many pointless deaths already. She would make hers count. She had learned her lesson the hard way—the world, the entire universe, needed the Doctor.

Viciously stifling a sob as images of Susan and Matthew assaulted her mind, she staggered into the console room. Somehow, she managed to input the proper coordinates and fly the TARDIS to land neatly in the corner of Matthew's bedroom. Feeling strangely detached, she slowly opened the door.

"What do you want me to do?"

The young physician eyed her warily, but Melissa didn't care. Martha Jones opinion of her would mean very little all too soon. The Doctor was weakly thrashing about, no doubt sensing on the most basic level what she had done. She felt a brief pang of remorse, but composed herself to face his former companion.

As nonchalantly as she could, she addressed the human doctor. "I had trouble finding it. The Doctor banks his own blood, but it wasn't stored very logically. You have to administer it through the IV. Don't worry about too much volume. Any excess will be converted to energy to help his tissues heal. You should see a marked improvement within four hours. If not, there's nothing else that can be done. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to fix some tea."

It was easy lying to Martha. The woman didn't trust her, and wouldn't think to question where the blood had come from. She only cared about saving the Doctor, which was fine, since that was her desire as well. Walking out of the room, she ignored Martha's questions.

Putting the kettle on the stove to boil water for the tea, Melissa stood unsteadily by the counter, slowly losing awareness of her surroundings. Her perception shrunk to a black, pin-pricked night. Her last conscious thought was that Jack was going to be very angry.


	47. Stupidly Heroic and Completely Brilliant

Author's Notes - Thanks to padmay97 and dwatlaskrhtcm for their reviews of the last chapter. I couldn't leave Melissa's fate up in the air for very long, so here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>Captain Jack Harkness was standing outside of the United Nations Headquarters in Geneva when he felt that something had gone horribly wrong. But surely he was mistaken; Melissa or Martha would have called if the Doctor had taken a turn for the worse. He wanted to pop back over to Colorado to reassure himself, but his audience in front of the Security Council had been fast-tracked when his request had become known to the Secretary General. His fears would have to be pushed aside while he argued for something the Doctor deserved a thousand times over. It was time to make his case for the piece of paper that would save the Doctor's life.<p>

Two hours later, he was quietly debating the chances for success with Sir Alistair when his previous unease began to build. "I need to brief the UNIT team in Colorado on the threats they may face," he announced abruptly, deciding he couldn't wait to check on his friend any longer.

His excuse didn't fool the Brigadier for a moment. "Let me know how he's doing, will you? I don't think I'll have time to fly out with UNIT taking up most of the day's agenda."

"Will do," Jack promised, hoping he would not have to relay bad news to the newly appointed head of UNIT. With a flash, he was gone.

"How is he? He looks like he's having a nightmare."

He could tell his abrupt appearance had startled Martha; she literally jumped out of her seat, pushing the computer chair against the wall.

Once Martha got over the fright of him, she answered professionally. "Miraculous, I'd say. I can't believe how fast he's improving, although he's been agitated like that since you left." She was eager to share the Doctor's vital statistics with Jack, but he cut her off.

"What's that smell? Is something burning?"

"Can't smell anything. Maybe that woman burned something in the kitchen, not that she offered me anything to eat." Martha scooted the chair closer to the bed, trying unsuccessfully to hide her dislike of the newly discovered Time Lord.

"Melissa hasn't been in here?"

"Not since dropping off the blood. Guess she isn't one of the Doctor's close, personal friends." She couldn't help the insult. The woman should have at least checked on the Doctor, not that Martha minded being alone with him.

"What blood?" he asked suspiciously.

"The Doctor's blood. He had it banked in the TARDIS. I just finished giving him the last bag about a half hour ago. Already, his organs are functioning again and his injuries seem to be healing. His temperature is close to normal as well." She looked expectantly at him, waiting for his praise, but it didn't come.

His voice deadly calm, Jack demanded, "How much blood did you give him?" He knew for a fact that there was no Time Lord blood stored in the TARDIS; he had wished there was often enough when travelling with the Doctor and Rose.

"Does it matter? He's getting better!" When he continued to glare at her, she added in exasperation, "Four bags, they looked to be about a pint each." She was shocked when Jack blanched, spun around and raced out the door without saying a word.

He found her by following his nose to the kitchen, where he turned off the burner to the stove. The now dry kettle hadn't started melting yet, but it was close; there was a film of oily black residue on the bottom where the thin metal had rested too long on the overheated electric coils.

Kneeling beside her, Jack gently rolled her over, exposing her face. The skin was torn above her left temple, and there was a large, nasty bruise hidden underneath her matted hair. Frantically, he searched for a pulse, but couldn't feel one.

Rushing back into Matthew's room, he spied Martha's stethoscope and grabbed it, returning immediately to the kitchen. Placing it on her chest, he listened closely, relieved to hear her hearts, but terrified to hear them beating so irregularly-racing in one instant and skipping beats the next. Her lips were more blue than red, her breathing incredibly shallow and her hands like ice.

Berating himself for ignoring his instincts, he searched the cleaning supplies underneath the kitchen sink until he found a small bottle of ammonia. Opening it, he held it under her nose, hoping to get a reaction from her, but she didn't stir. He pinched her cheek; he shook her; he shouted at her, demanding she wake, to no avail.

His yelling was enough to alert Martha, however, who came running into the kitchen.

"Oh my God!"

"Out. Get out, Martha. If she dies, I'm blaming you." His voice was dangerously calm and filled with venom.

"It wasn't my fault, Jack! She said the blood was the Doctor's." As she protested her innocence, Martha twisted her ring.

"And you didn't think that was the least bit suspicious?"

Since she had been somewhat suspicious of Melissa's explanation, Martha felt very guilty that she had been injured. But, she was still an unknown Time Lord, and the woman who had walked through a nightmare for a year because of the Master wasn't about to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Maybe it's for the best, Jack. If she's insane like the Master, maybe it's best if she dies before the Doctor sees her."

"She's not like him!" he roared, shocked at how angry the comparison had made him. For all he knew, she could be just like the Master. Deliberately, he took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm down. "And even if she was, Martha, what gave you the right to decide who lives and who dies?"

"He was dying. There wasn't another choice, and she didn't seem to be affected. Maybe she just fell and hit her head. A Plasmavore drained the Doctor's blood at Royal Hope, and he turned out fine. I just had to restart his hearts. She'll be okay."

Unexpected, white hot anger shot through him, and this time, he wasn't able to control it. "Excuse me. I thought you got your medical degree by actually studying medicine! Think, Martha! The Doctor couldn't have lost that much blood. He would have regenerated. Plasmavores paralyze their prey! His hearts probably stopped from the poison, not blood loss. Besides, whatever happened to first do no harm?"

"I didn't know! The Doctor was dying, Jack. There wasn't time to ask questions." He had to understand that she only wanted to help.

Stroking Melissa's cheek, Jack suddenly felt old and incredibly weary. Of course Martha hadn't asked any questions. Not many people would have given the situation. "Just leave, Martha."

"What?"

When he looked at her, the pain and grief in his eyes was such that she took an involuntary step backwards. His tone of voice held no recriminations, however. "The Doctor's improving. You said so yourself. And, there isn't anything you can do for her. I think it's best if you leave now."

Dumbly, she nodded. Focusing once again on Melissa, he didn't even notice her exit. Studying the still figure before him, Jack wondered briefly if Martha was right. Was Melissa psychotic like the Master? But, she had practically killed herself to save the Doctor. In fact, she might still die. That wasn't the action of someone as selfish and twisted as the Master, was it?

And why did he feel like he was about to lose the most important person in the world? There were tears rolling down his face, and his chest was so tight he might have feared a heart attack if he could actually stay dead. He had loved her human persona, but her personality couldn't be the same-the Master's alter ego Professor Yana had more than proven that.

Trying to be dispassionate, he told himself that she could very well be as insane and terrible as the Master. If that were the case, he would probably be doing the Doctor a favor if he just let her die. Still, there was that niggling insistence in the back of his head that she was more than worthy. He had learned long ago to trust his instincts, even if he took her earlier declaration that she loved him with a shaker full of salt. Not really understanding why, he carefully placed his hands on her face.

He was standing outside a vast underground bunker. The shift in scenery had been so seamless that it took him a moment to understand that he must again be in her mind. The bunker didn't seem any more pleasant than the chasm, but he knew he needed to find her. Walking along the perimeter, he began his search.

It seemed to take hours, but he finally found her slumped against one of the concrete supports outside the bunker. She was wearing the same uniform, but it was torn and bloody. She wasn't moving, and alarmingly, there was a man crouching in front of her.

Pulling out his Webley, he ran towards the figure, warning him to back away. Surprisingly, the man did, and it was only then that Jack recognized the Doctor. He was wearing the same black uniform as she, his face bruised and battered. However, there was a spark of amusement in his eyes as he looked at his friend.

"Took you long enough, Captain, although I will admit that she was very deeply hidden."

The Doctor crouched beside her again, waving his sonic screwdriver. If it upset him that she didn't wake to bat the screwdriver away from her face, he didn't show it.

Confused, Jack demanded, "How are you here?"

Looking up at his friend, the Doctor answered with a wry smile. "I could ask the same of you, you know, but that's a discussion for another day. Although, when I called you an impossible thing, Jack, I never quite imagined this."

Jack wanted to ask the Doctor just what the hell he was talking about, but Melissa gave a weak groan, and both men instantly focused their attention back to her. Being closest, the Doctor took her hand in his and whispered her name into her ear.

Her eyes fluttered open. "It worked."

"Yes, I'll be fine, although I rather think you're not. And I couldn't help noticing that you're not regenerating." He caressed her hand, wanting to assure her that she wouldn't be alone.

Frail, her voice barely above a whisper, she responded. "I'm holding it back."

The effect was dramatic. Dropping her hand, the Doctor stood abruptly to stare down at her, an icy wind whipping at his back. "That's your choice, of course. I'm not going to force you to do anything against your will."

Turning to leave, he was knocked to the ground by a right hook to his jaw.

"What was that for?"

"Look at what you're doing to her!" Melissa's face was traced with frostbite, her eyes like glass. "She can't regenerate; she doesn't have any left! She burned, or don't you remember the scars on her back?" Jack pulled her onto his lap and tried to warm her face with his hands.

The Doctor looked at the two of them in shock, appalled at his mistake. The corridor was bathed in gentle warmth, returning color to her face, but her eyes remained unseeing. No matter how much Jack begged, she made no response.

Urgently, the Doctor grabbed the Captain. "You're sure she's out of regenerations?"

"Yes, but don't ask me how I know."

Suddenly, Jack was back in the kitchen, hugging Melissa's still form, the Doctor resting against both of them. Jack wanted to punch him again for being such an asshole, but as the Time Lord stood, he noticed how heavily his friend leaned against the countertop, and his anger evaporated.

"Does she have a chance?"

Subdued, the Doctor answered, "There's always a chance, Jack." Then brightening, he added with a hint of mania, "But today, we're going to make it a certainty! Have I ever mentioned that I'm very clever?"

He grinned, already heartened by the Doctor's confidence. "Once or twice."

With the Doctor leaning against him and Melissa in his arms, the Captain felt like reaching the TARDIS infirmary had been an accomplishment in itself. Laying Melissa on the single metal bed, he watched the other Time Lord for signs of collapse.

Tiring of Jack's concern, the Doctor testily assured him. "I'm fine. Just need some rest, but I'll manage long enough with a little help."

"Anything."

"Tell me how much blood she lost for a start." He leaned against the wall for support, resisting the impulse to hover over her, checking to make sure she was real and not some sort of death induced hallucination.

"At least four pints and then whatever she lost from the head wound, but it could be more. Martha wasn't sure how much blood was in each bag." Checking, Jack was relieved to see that the large gash on her skull had finally stopped bleeding.

Reeling, the Doctor briefly closed his eyes before taking action. "Okay. She needs fluids. Fourth drawer from the top, seventh from the left."

As the Captain prepared the IV, the Doctor placed her on oxygen to keep her saturation levels up; then he placed a heated blanket on top of her. She was too frail for her body to lapse into a healing coma; it would most likely kill her at this point. She might live, though, if she was lucky and didn't suffer a heart attack or stroke or catch some exotic disease, although it would have to be a singularly peculiar infection to be considered exotic to a Time Lord. She might live, but she would take a very long time to heal.

Still, there was that fear of the Doctor's that no matter what he did, in the end her recovery was dependent upon chance. It was making his head throb, or perhaps that was the exhaustion. He had been dying a few hours ago, after all. And then she had done something stupidly heroic and completely brilliant-very her.

She couldn't die. Everything felt so right, especially after everything that had gone so very wrong earlier in the day. Of course, the first thing he had managed to do was hurt her, but that was very him.

"Doctor? Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me, Doc."

Jolted back to the present, the Doctor looked up to see Jack's worried face floating over him. He was lying on the floor with no memory of how he got there, but he had a good guess.

"I'm fine. Just need to rest. Stay with her. I'm just going to my bedroom to have a lie down."

"You've been lying down for ten minutes now, Doc. You're not going anywhere."

"The floor's somewhat uncomfortable, Captain," he protested weakly, wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep.

"Yeah, well, details. Told you a long time ago the infirmary needed two beds. Be back in a sec." Jack took off at a run, hoping the TARDIS had something stashed nearby.

By the time he returned with a narrow camp bed that looked like it had been borrowed from the army during World War II, the Doctor was deeply asleep or unconscious, but he didn't like to dwell on the difference. He managed to pull the Time Lord onto the makeshift bed without disturbing him, though the Doctor immediately turned on his side, his back covered in a huge purple-black bruise. His knees were pulled up, no doubt to keep his feet from sticking off the end. Placing a blanket over him, Jack thought for a moment that he looked incredibly vulnerable in his sleep.

Settling into the old, battered metal chair, Jack thoughts wandered until the grief of Susan and Matthew's deaths overwhelmed him again. Blinking back tears, he stared at the acoustical tiles on the ceiling, raging at the unfairness of life in general. Life could certainly be crappy sometimes; who would have thought an invitation to visit a friend would have resulted in the twins' deaths?

Damn, why did it have to happen now? He had long ago stopped believing in a benevolent deity, or any deity at all, but things like this sometimes made him wonder if there just might be a malevolent one. Susan had emailed him just two weeks ago, inviting him to graduation, and he hadn't even replied; he had been too afraid to ask if Melissa wanted him there at all.

Worst of all, she had confided that her brother needed him. He had been burned in some sort of science experiment gone wrong and was out of control. One phone call-it would have only taken one phone call to see how Matthew was doing and give him some fatherly advice. And now he would never have that chance.

Poor Melissa. Whomever she turned out to be, he didn't think she deserved to have her children killed, and by Daleks at that. He had a feeling that once that fact sunk in she was going to be inconsolable. He doubted that she had had time to process their deaths as she had put herself in jeopardy to save the Doctor's life.

And that was another thing. He knew she had been hiding something from him, just as he had known when she had been injured. How did that work, and how had he managed to enter her mind? He had a high aptitude for telepathy, but he'd never done anything on that scale before.

In the Time Agency, he had instinctively known people's likes and dislikes. He had often known the perfect thing to say to calm them down or rile them up, depending upon the situation. He'd even foiled a plot to overthrow the Vaganzee government in the 38th century by reading the mind of the vizier's lover, but the man had been projecting the date so loudly in his head that every mildly telepathic subject on the planet should have been dreaming of the rebellion in their sleep.

However, he had never walked in someone's psyche and communicated like he had done with Melissa. He should be frightened out of his wits, but there was such a strong sense of familiarity to it all that he didn't feel anything but eagerness to do it again.

He let those notions swirl in his head as he sat tiredly waiting for the two Time Lords to wake. Two, he thought, with a sudden optimism. He should be flabbergasted, but he felt only contentment, excitement even, at the thought of Melissa being a Time Lord. His feelings were odd-no matter what she had said, she wasn't the same person he had fallen in love with, was she? Wondering what she was really like, he slouched in the chair; he had a feeling it was going to be a long wait.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Asleep on the job, Captain?" Startled, Jack jumped out of the metal chair. He had, indeed, fallen asleep.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he regarded the Doctor groggily. At least his friend looked better. There were still dark circles under his eyes, but his face no longer looked skeletal and the bruise on his back had faded to a sickly yellow.

"How long's it been?"

"Eight hours, twenty-three minutes and forty-six seconds for me. Not sure for you." Grabbing the chair Jack had just vacated, the Doctor pulled it next to Melissa and sat down. "Fill a bowl with warm water and get me a washcloth, would you? I don't want Susan or Matthew to see her like this. Surprised they haven't been banging on the door to get in already."

"Doc-"

The emotion in his voice must have been enough to tell the Doctor all he needed to know.

Reluctantly, he turned to Jack, his face taut with grief. "Where did you find them?"

"The Pentagon."

He nodded as if he wasn't too surprised. "Was Tommy Frakes with them?"

"Not sure. There were so many bodies and I didn't have time to check."

"Does she know?" He began to gently wipe her face, cleaning off the blood with the warm washcloth Jack had provided.

"She knows, but I don't think she's had time to let it sink in. She was in bad shape when I found her. She kept talking nonsense, couldn't keep fantasy from reality. I ended up in her mind; haven't got a clue how, and I did it twice. I don't even understand what I did, but it seemed to help her. She was rational enough to get me out of the way before she tried to kill herself by exsanguination."

Jack looked apologetic as he hurriedly continued. "No offense, but I would never have let her try something like that, although I'm glad it worked."

"None taken. I wouldn't have let her try it, either."

As the Doctor continued to clean her face, the former Time Agent fidgeted with his wrist computer until he found the courage to ask a few questions. Self-consciously, he remarked, "So, uh, she's a Time Lord."

Dropping the washcloth in the bowl for a moment, the Doctor gave him a look that made him feel like he was around two years old, so he stammered an explanation. "Yeah, I, guess that's pretty obvious. I mean, what's she like?" There was a self-deprecating smile on his face, but he was more nervous than happy. For all his feigned nonchalance, the answer was suddenly very important to him.

"You don't know?" the Time Lord replied, his voice tinged with incredulity and a bit of a challenge.

"I know her personality as a human, Doc, but we both know that's just a shell."

Nodding to himself as if he had come to some sort of decision, the Doctor said quietly, "She's no Master, if that's what you want to know."

Immensely relieved, he dared to ask, "Will she be anything like she was?"

There was a long silence as the Doctor resumed cleaning the blood off her face. Then, he remarked conversationally, as if Jack hadn't asked a question. "I used the Arch once, you know. Funny thing about the Chameleon Arch, it seems to turn you into just the sort of person you secretly wish to be. I ended up a schoolteacher in 1913. Just think of it, Captain, an ordinary man, living an ordinary life, falling in love with—well, Joan was by no means ordinary. But I could have had it all, the house, the carpet, the mortgage, the family, everything."

"What changed your mind?" he asked quietly.

"As Martha Jones was so good to point out, the world needed the Doctor, not some ordinary human named John Smith. I ultimately chose to open the watch. I went back after everything was over, tried to convince Joan that we could start fresh, but she wasn't willing to do that, and maybe she was right."

"But Professor Yana—"

"Was exactly who the Master wished he could be. Before he was driven insane, he was generous and caring, just like his human alter ego." Sighing, he looked Jack in the eye, and the Captain saw the pain of old hurts. "My only regret now is that his watch was opened in the first place."

"And hers?" He couldn't believe that he was asking the question, just as he couldn't believe that his friend, who usually shied away from personal discussions such as this, was being so open with him.

A worn smile appeared on the Doctor's face. "In all my years, in all my travels, Jack, I have never believed in the possibility of a god, but I may just have to revise that credo." Then, before the Captain could reply, he added with a chuckle, "Although, I've got to say, if it is the work of a god, then it's a god with a sense of humor."

He wouldn't elaborate, and Jack didn't ask, although he had the strangest feeling that it was a punch line to a joke he should already know. Melissa remained unconscious, and as the Doctor finished cleaning her face, alarms began to sound on the various monitors, indicating that her blood pressure had dropped precipitously. After a few minutes of tense waiting, it slowly stabilized.

Watching the monitors, the Doctor rubbed his eyes, his control slipping. "She can't die, Jack; she just can't."

"She won't." He placed his arm sympathetically on the Time Lord's bare shoulder. His friend looked startled for a moment-he had forgotten he wasn't wearing his suit-then he gave the Captain a brief nod of gratitude.

Wringing out the washcloth, he stated, "We'll need to make arrangements in Washington. Do you have someone you trust?"

"I'll go." It was the least he could do.

"You're needed here, Captain. One of us should be with her at all times. She needs to know she isn't alone."

"Let me make some calls, then. I need to check in at the Hub anyway. I'll be back soon." With that, Jack walked out of the TARDIS to contact his team and brief the UNIT soldiers who were standing guard around the house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alone with Melissa, the Doctor carefully examined the gash near her temple, frowning as he felt the knot on the side of her head.

The pain of his prodding was enough to wake her, and she feebly batted his hand away.

"Jack?"

"He'll be back soon," the Doctor promised as he watched her battle towards wakefulness. When he saw her eyes focus on him, he added tenderly, "How are you feeling?"

"Cold."

"That's because you did something ridiculously stupid." He said it with a gentle voice, however, covering her hand with his. "What were you thinking, Emma? You almost managed to kill yourself this time."

Exhausted, her voice held little emotion as she answered. "You. I was thinking about you."

Contrary emotions stirred deep within him, and suddenly he had to blink back tears as he squeezed her hand. "Don't you dare do something like that again. By some twist of fate we're both still alive. Let's keep it that way."

She nodded slowly, her eyelids suddenly too heavy to keep open. When he acknowledged that she had fallen back asleep, the Doctor piled another blanket on top of her, wishing that he could take away some of her suffering.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack rested his hand on Melissa's side, wondering how long she would sleep. He was sure she was asleep this time instead of unconscious because she had turned over to snuggle against him. Nervous, he considered how upset she would be waking up naked in bed with him, but he planned on blaming the Doctor.

When she had awoken the last time, she had started shivering almost immediately, even with the two warm blankets piled on top of her. He wasn't sure if it was the blood loss, shock or a combination of both, but she hadn't been all that rational. She had insisted on getting up, ripping off the oxygen and practically bolting out of the bed, only to faint as soon as she had straightened. Jack was sure she would have knocked her head again if the Doctor hadn't managed to catch her.

The Doctor might not have been acting altogether rationally, either, come to think about it. He had looked just about as panicked as Jack had ever seen him, and considering the situations they'd endured together, that said a lot. Carrying her out of the TARDIS, he had made a beeline for her bedroom, and began stripping her clothes off as soon as he placed her on her bed. As Jack had watched, completely bewildered, the Time Lord had practically barked at him.

"She's having trouble maintaining her proper temperature. Think, Jack, body heat! Now strip. You're warmer and bigger than I am."

He had quickly complied, not even thinking of the obvious sexual jokes until hours later. Perhaps he had been slightly panicked as well. Cocooned against him underneath the covers, she had stopped shivering within twenty minutes. At that point, the Doctor, who had been sitting on the opposite side of the bed watching her like a hawk, left the room, mumbling the he was going to find something to eat. That had been five hours ago.

Absentmindedly, he started rubbing her back, feeling the ever present ropey scars. Suddenly, he felt her whole body shaking, and he thought for an instant that she was cold once again, but then he realized that she was crying silently against him. Holding her tightly, he offered what comfort he could, knowing there was nothing he could say to relieve her pain.

Eventually, she stilled, and he moved away from her just enough to see her face.

"I'm sorry."

Nodding, she blearily rubbed her eyes. "Where am I?"

"Your bedroom."

Turning on her back, she studied the ceiling for a few minutes before complaining. "I stink and my hair feels like straw. I need a shower."

"Not sure that's a good idea yet. You fainted as soon as you stood up last time." Well, at least she wasn't upset at waking up next to him, but he wished she would rest a while longer. By the set of her jaw, though, he had a feeling that stubbornness was a Time Lord trait.

"I don't remember," she admitted quietly, not really caring. Slowly, she sat up, leaning against the headboard until the dizziness passed.

Once he realized that she was indeed going to be too stubborn to dissuade, he helped her stand. She had to lean against him for several seconds, but she managed to walk into the bathroom on her own. He insisted on showering with her, terrified that she would pass out where he couldn't help her. He cleaned the blood from her hair without pulling too much, and he knew without asking that she was both exhausted and grateful by the time the water started going cold.

Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped her in several thick towels before sitting her on the overstuffed chair in her room. He needed to dry her hair before she became chilled. Carefully brushing the out the tangles, he had a spark of memory, too brief to comprehend except for a flash of her with a boyish haircut.

Before turning on the hair dryer, he mentioned without really knowing why, "I love your hair like this. Don't cut it."

Startled, she promised, "I won't let anyone hack it off with a knife this time." When he stared at her blankly for several seconds, she closed her eyes so he couldn't see her disappointment; he still did not remember. She was almost asleep by the time he finished.

"Dry enough?"

She nodded, too weary to make conversation. Rummaging through the dresser, he managed to find underwear, jeans and a sweatshirt, and helped her put them on. As he was kneeling in front of her to put on her socks, he caught her staring at his naked body.

"What?"

"Getting dressed today?"

Suddenly self-conscious, he actually blushed. "I had other priorities, but I thought I'd do that next. Unless you prefer the view?"

"The view's perfect." She gave him a brief, lopsided grin, and it warmed Jack's heart to know she could still smile.

Hesitantly, she put her hand to his chest. "You aren't angry?"

"Hell, yes, I'm angry," he retorted, his emotions getting the better of him. "You could have died!" Seeing her reaction, his voice became gentle. "I'm so sorry about the kids. One of my team is in Washington now trying to cut through some red tape."

Feeling like she might choke on her emotions, she simply nodded, not trusting herself to speak. As she watched him change into some of his old jeans and a t-shirt he had left at Christmas, she swallowed the lump in her throat, asking hesitantly, "How angry is the Doctor?"

Considering, Jack took a moment before answering. "Not angry so much as petrified. He's so worried about you that I don't think he's taking care of himself. Why don't we go find him?" Helping her stand, he wrapped his arm tightly around her waist as he slowly led her down the hall.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Walking into the kitchen with Melissa at his side, Jack realized two things. One, the Doctor was so stunned by the Brig's offer that he actually looked like he might faint, and two, the old soldier didn't have a clue that the Time Lord was in such a fragile state.

"So, what do you say, Doctor? It's a generous offer, and one I hope you'll consider. Although you would be a citizen of the entire planet, it's been suggested that your documentation come from the United Kingdom, although I'm sure that point is more than negotiable."

Brigadier Alistair Gordon Leftbridge-Stewart stared at his friend in consternation, not understanding how a man who could talk for hours about nothing had been rendered speechless.

In a more reluctant voice, he added, "If you really don't want to be a citizen of a particular nation, I'm sure Geneva can come up with some type of planetary identification. I know you don't like to be tied down." When his old friend still hadn't answered, the Brigadier added in exasperation, "Good gracious, man! At least say something!"

The Doctor's mouth opened, but no words came out. Hastening to his rescue, Melissa calmly called out. "Say thank you, because you're rude and might forget. Then, say yes."

Taken aback by her appearance, he managed to recover some of his composure. "Of course, I mean, thank you, Alistair. I never expected, that is, thank you."

When he trailed off, she leveled her eyes at him, and he once again focused his attention on his old friend. "I accept. After the War, I never thought I'd belong anywhere again, but this planet never ceases to amaze me. Please tell the United Nations that I most gratefully accept their offer."

"Good," the Brigadier replied brusquely, nervous that this Doctor might just want to hug him. Turning his attention to the woman in the room, he announced, "The offer stands for you as well, Ms. Morgan. After hearing about the Doctor's bravery and the fate of his planet, the United Nations decided to offer citizenship to any Time Lord, bar one, who might come forward."

Suddenly lightheaded, she leaned heavily against Jack. She, too, was rendered speechless. Concerned, the Brigadier quickly began to apologize.

"My apologies. I shouldn't have sprung the news on you quite like that. I can see that you're injured. My deepest sympathy to you on the loss of your children. I was grieved to hear that they were killed during the Dalek attack. Perhaps you would like some time to think it over?"

"Yes," she agreed, dropping into the chair Jack had pulled out for her. "I mean, no, I don't need to think it over, Brigadier. Like the Doctor, I am simply rendered speechless by the planet's generosity. I would be honored to be an official citizen."

"Splendid." The Brigadier breathed a sigh of relief. He would not have to conceal her identity from UNIT after all. "I'd best be on my way, then. I'm afraid there's much to be done. UNIT lost a third of its force during the invasion." Giving Jack a nod, he quickly made his exit.

Jack sat in another chair, and the three sat in shocked silence for the better part of a minute. "Hungry?" he finally asked.

"Starved," the two Time Lords said in unison, breaking the tension.

Jack heated up some leftovers he found in the refrigerator, and everyone began to eat large bowlfuls of red bean and rice. They were silent, each wrapped up in their own private thoughts until Melissa started to laugh uncontrollably. Concerned that she might be hysterical, both men rose out of their seats, but she waved them back.

"I'm perfect," she assured them unconvincingly, wiping away tears. Looking pointedly at the Doctor, she said, "I just realized that every meal I've ever cooked for you had celery in it. I can't imagine how you stood coming back here all those times."

Shrugging, he helped himself to another bowl of red beans. "I never noticed. No wonder I felt so much better after staying here."

Seeing Jack's look of confusion, the Doctor hastily explained. "Eating celery for a Time Lord is a bit like eating brussel sprouts, spinach and garlic all rolled into one. It's also a powerful restorative. I don't think humans have any equivalent."

Then, he smiled softly and turned his attention back to Melissa. "Even as a human you were looking out for me, Em."

Melissa ducked her head, suddenly uncomfortable, as Jack couldn't help but commenting. "M? That's your real name, Melissa? What's the Doctor's, then? D?"

Wearily, she tried to explain. "Not the letter 'M', Jack. Most of us don't go around with letters as our names." She gave the Doctor a significant look before continuing. "It's short for Emma, a nickname he coined for me."

Eager that she not go into detail about his own nicknames, the Doctor added, "Emma named herself the Emissary when we were very young, but never could explain whose emissary she was. I merely shortened it to Emma, and the name stuck-much less teasing that way."

Before Jack could ask another question, Melissa said gravely, "I know my full title now, and if you don't mind, I'd just as soon be called Melissa."

Subdued, the Doctor replied, "For curiosity's sake, I'd like to hear your full title just once."

Her place mat was already twisting in her hand as Jack blurted out, "She's the Emissary of the Bad Wolf." After a pause, he demanded, "How the hell did I know that?"

"Not now, Captain." The Doctor was visibly upset, his face tense and pale as he sought confirmation in her eyes. "She couldn't have. Rose only held the power of the Time Vortex for a few minutes. She couldn't have reached back that far; she didn't have the control, just look at Jack!"

The place mat was wrapped around her entire hand as she brought her fist crashing down on the table. "She had more than enough control to call out to me. I've been her servant since I looked into the untempered schism, not that I understood at the time! She wanted you safe, and I did too. Who do you think warned that Bastard that he wasn't allowed to kill you? Who do you think helped Rose build a time machine for Donna in that alternate reality? You died, and I was all alone, except for the kids, who are dead, and Jack, who doesn't remember!"

She started crying then, overcome by grief. Instantly, they were both at her side, encasing her in a hug. She let them comfort her for a few minutes, but after that she demanded that they leave her alone. She had too many things to think about just then. Retreating to Susan's bedroom, she tearfully read her daughter's diary.

Poor Susan. She had known about the watch and had struggled with that knowledge for over a year. She hated that her daughter's too short life was filled with guilt towards the end, even as she despaired to think how she and Matthew might still be alive if she had just made a different decision. Graduation was just days away, but it was far too late for her children. Overcome with sorrow and exhausted because of the blood loss, she fell asleep on the cheery canopy bed, the diary falling to the floor.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Once she had stalked out of the kitchen, Jack turned his attention to the Doctor. "So, are you going to explain any of it?"

Resignedly, the Doctor looked at his friend. "As much as I can. There are things you need to understand." Automatically putting his bowl in the sink, he added, "You mind taking a walk? I think I could do with some air."

They passed the UNIT guards as the Doctor led Jack down the trail to the grove of aspen trees where the TARDIS was usually parked. Leaning against a tree, he tried to explain to Jack the alternate reality that the Time Beetle had created when it attached itself to Donna Noble's back. He had told Donna it was a parallel world, knowing that the terminology was technically wrong, but not wanting to get into a pointless debate with his best friend. No one besides Donna should have any memory of the timeline, save a trapped Time Lord and a fixed point in time-and Rose, of course. At least the Captain sounded like he understood.

"So, you're saying that this bug made Donna change a decision that ended up twisting the timeline into a reality where you died defeating the Racnoss. Melissa just admitted that she remembered it, so I'm guessing that she opened the watch in this alternate. She also mentioned being with me. Rose managed to build a time machine with Melissa's help and Donna crossed her own timeline to put everything right. How am I doing so far, Doc?" Jack regarded the Doctor apprehensively; he wasn't sure what his friend was going to say.

"You always were clever, Jack. Knew you'd understand. Normally, there'd be no chance of recalling any of it, of course, but you're a fixed point in time. It happened, even if it actually didn't, and eventually you'll remember. He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how much more he should say. It was obvious to him what had occurred, but was it fair to tell Jack before Melissa had a chance to tell him herself?

"How long before I remember all of it? I've gotten a few flashes, but nothing I could call memories." He was anxious to remember; Melissa had seemed quite upset when he hadn't.

"No idea. Could be hours, days, months, could be years." He pushed off the tree he had been leaning against to pace around the small clearing. "Only one problem with the whole situation, and mind you, when I say problem, I don't necessarily mean it's bad. Just one of those impossible things that seem to happen around you, Captain."

As Jack watched him pace, he considered whether or not he should press the Doctor for information, but the need to know eventually won out. "So, you going to share, or do I have to guess?"

"Oh, I'll definitely be sharing with you, Jack. Can't help it, can I?"

His voice was so laden with meaning that his friend couldn't stand it anymore. "Come on, Doc! Enough of the runaround! What are you trying to tell me?"

Gathering his thoughts, the Doctor attempted to explain to his friend at the speed of light, not sure if he could get the words out without unnecessary interruptions. "You, Jack Harkness, are a fixed point in time, and obviously very, very good at telepathy. Sometime in that alternate reality, you psychically bonded with her. I could feel your mark as soon as I entered her mind."

Before he could explain further, he was interrupted. "Hold on, Doc. I'm human, and as far as I know it's impossible for a human to form the sort of bond you're talking about."

"Correctamundo." He winced as that word slipped out of his mouth. "Sorry, seem to be having a slight problem with speech today. Anyway, your telepathy either's been enhanced by your connection to the Time Vortex, or you aren't quite as human as you think. Fifty-first century, after all, easy to have forgotten ancestors with alien blood, even on Boeshane. However you managed it, you two are bonded."

Again, Jack interrupted. "And that means what, exactly?"

The Doctor shot him an impatient look. "You know exactly what it means. You can feel each other's emotions, give each other strength, enter each other's minds, communicate telepathically, the works. There are other advantages, but I'm sure you can figure those out for yourself."

Thinking furiously, Jack finally understood why he had felt so upset at the hub and the UN. He had known she was in trouble because they were linked. Thinking of Ianto, he asked uncertainly, "How does that affect other relationships?"

Staring hard at his friend, the Doctor tried not to raise his voice. "You can have as many relationships as you want, Captain. However, be aware that the bond can hurt someone just as easily as it can help. Your ability to wound her has increased exponentially."

It was as if lightning had struck. "Just like you did when you were in her mind. Want to explain that, Doc? You mentioned sharing, but I thought the very nature of a psychic bond excluded a third party."

Uncomfortable, the Doctor unconsciously ran his fingers through his hair. "That's why I called you an impossible thing, Jack. Emma and I have been bonded since we were adolescents, but as she pointed out, I was dead in that alternate reality, which severs the bond very decisively. She was free to form another."

"Then she's your wife."

After a moment's pause, the Doctor replied without irony. "And yours. I stood beside you at your wedding, after all."

Suddenly grave, he leveled his eyes at his friend. "You need to understand, Captain. This is a unique situation, even in the history of the Time Lords. Fighting over her will rip her mind in two, and trying to break even part of the bond will likely kill all three of us."

He failed to mention that walking away without attempting to sever the bond would not affect her, other than breaking her hearts. There were some things his former companion would have to find out himself.

Jack digested his friend's words for a few minutes. He knew that there was much more than the Doctor was saying, but hoped he would understand once he regained those memories. One thought blazed in his mind, however.

"Bonded or not, you jumped to a conclusion, and almost killed her. Don't ever do something so stupid again, or I will find a way to hurt you without hurting her. Clear?"

"Crystal," the Doctor acknowledged, relieved he was getting off so lightly.


	48. Haunted by the Past

Author's Notes - Thanks to TheOnyxRose, MaryMatthesen, dwatlaskrhtcm and LadyoftheDrow for reviewing the last chapter. Yes, everything just got a lot more complicated, and it won't be resolved in a few paragraphs. I just hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

* * *

><p>Walking into the kitchen to fix an early morning cup of tea, the Doctor was not surprised to see Melissa already there, sipping a cup of coffee. Both he and Jack had respected her wish for privacy the day before, but seeing her red rimmed eyes and blotchy face made him wish he hadn't.<p>

"Did you sleep at all?"

"I slept for two hours and twelve minutes yesterday afternoon on Susan's bed."

Sitting beside her at the table, he was nervous enough to repeatedly dunk the teabag in his mug of hot water. There were so many things he wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come out. Gathering his courage, he clasped her hand, but the only thing he felt was the coolness of her skin. Her mind was completely closed to him.

"You don't have to go through this alone, you know." He spoke gently, trying not to let the hurt of her rejection show in his voice.

Slowly, she pulled her hand away from his. "Don't I? At some point, you're going to become too uncomfortable with the whole situation and run away. You've proven yourself very good at that."

He grimaced, but didn't try to defend himself. He had walked away from her when she had needed him the most, even if he had thought he had a valid reason at the time. He would have to regain her trust with deeds, not words.

"I told Jack about the bond."

Her tear stained face paled and then reddened in anger. "Thanks, Doc. As if I didn't have enough to deal with already, now Jack's going to think I'm some kind of albatross around his neck. He doesn't even know who I am anymore! He doesn't remember." Suddenly, she was blinking back tears.

Why did he always end up hurting her? "I'm sorry. I didn't do it to upset you. I thought-"

But she was crying too much to listen, and abandoning caution, he leaned over to wrap his arms around her.

"He promised! Why can't he remember? He doesn't even trust me right now, and I can't-"

Sobbing, she gave up trying to talk. When she finally quieted, she felt emotionally drained and exhausted. Untangling herself from him she hastily pushed herself up, intending to wash a few dishes, but the room tilted, and she gripped the chair just to remain standing.

"Bed," he ordered in a tone that even she didn't dare argue against. His arms were wrapped around her again, but she couldn't protest, not when he was the only thing keeping her upright.

By the time she was under the blankets, not even the whine of the sonic screwdriver could provoke more than a feeble grunt of protest. When he settled next to her, she pressed herself as close to him as she could, appreciative of the extra warmth. She just wished she could trust him to be there when she woke up.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Jerking awake from a familiar nightmare, it took a moment for Melissa to remember where she was. Then, it all came back to her, and she was more than a little disappointed to find that she was alone. Fighting dizziness as she sat up too quickly, she blearily rubbed her eyes.

"Feeling any better?"

Leaning against the headboard, she finally noticed the Doctor sitting nearby in the overstuffed chair.

"Not really," she confessed as she closed her eyes, hoping her lightheadedness would just disappear.

"Your blood pressure's low again. You'll feel better if you lie down."

Torn briefly between obeying and arguing for the sake of it, she decided that it was in her best interest to comply. Laying flat on her back helped with the dizziness, but it definitely gave her too much time to think. Mindlessly, she started to twist the end of the sheet into a large knot.

Observing her nervous habit, the Doctor moved to the edge of the bed. "Why don't you go back to sleep?"

"Can't."

He didn't press. He woke up from his own nightmares often enough to understand her reluctance. But when she continued to twist the sheet, he knew she needed a distraction.

"Want to talk?" Hastily, he added with a self-deprecating smile, "Just to pass the time, of course."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Anything. You pick."

That was rather open-ended, so she took a moment to decide. "Where's Jack?"

The smile disappeared from the Doctor's face. "Washington. For some reason, the American bureaucracy does not seem to be very impressed with the name Torchwood, but he assures me that as soon as Mr. Jones arrives, he'll teleport back here."

"They don't want to release the bodies." Suddenly, she wished she hadn't asked the question.

"Don't worry, Em. We'll get it sorted, one way or another. If they won't listen to Torchwood, then we'll use UNIT."

"I'm not," she lied. "Ianto's much better than Jack at cutting through red tape. I'm sure he'll manage."

There was a strained pause as she tried to think of a safer topic, but she couldn't find one.

"Does Sarah Jane know?"

"I don't believe so; would you like me to tell her?"

"I'd like to tell her myself. She should be home as long as there's not some emergency. It's a school night for Luke."

With a bitter pang, she realized Susan and Matthew would have flown home that afternoon, but their school days had been cut short. Before she could travel down that despondent path, he handed her the phone.

"Sarah Jane? It's Melissa. I could really use a friend right now. Do you have time to talk?"

The Doctor left quietly after that, not wanting to intrude.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Staring at her dinner plate, Melissa thought for a moment that she was going to be sick. The steak Jack had grilled was just the way she used to like it, rare and bloody, but now the sight of the half-cooked meat was making her stomach churn. The blood was spreading outwards on her plate, contaminating the baked potato and green beans as well. With a shudder of disgust, she pushed it aside.

"Not hungry?"

The Doctor had asked the question, but she could see the concern mirrored in Jack's eyes.

"There's too much blood."

Why had she let that pop out of her mouth? She should have been smart and simply said that, no, she wasn't hungry. They were both giving her all too sympathetic looks, and she had a crazy desire to scream. Instead, she left the table. Sitting on the couch in the den, she listlessly flipped channels. Matthew had been right; she had a tendency to pick apart the shows that she had been more than content to watch as a human. Finally, she settled on AMN.

She hadn't seen the news since the Earth had been moved, but it seemed that humanity was coping rather well with the irrefutable proof that they were not alone. For a moment, she smiled fondly. Less than a thousand years ago, much of the planet had believed the Earth to be the center of the universe, and now the UN was forming a committee to discuss the possibility of interplanetary relations.

Of course there were those who were frightened of change. A group in California had made the news after storming a robotics research facility and smashing the prototype for an underwater drone that used advanced A.I. technology. They had used the Dalek invasion as an excuse, arguing that people couldn't let machines get too smart. Likely, their ancestors had accused scientists of heresy back in the day. At least they were a small minority.

The news had started to become repetitive when Jack appeared in the den holding a large spinach and feta cheese salad. Suddenly hungry, she took it from him with a mumbled thanks. Sitting down next to her, he watched her eat.

"You want some?" she offered when his scrutiny finally made her uncomfortable.

"I'll pass, thanks. The Doc's picking up some dessert."

"He left?" she squeaked, practically panicking.

"He said he wouldn't be gone long." He was caught off guard by her reaction.

"But the TARDIS is old! And he's just one pilot. What if he gets the day wrong? What if he doesn't come back?"

"He took your car, Melissa," he stated calmly. "He went to buy some bananas and ice cream. He said you might like a banana split."

"Oh."

Feeling more relieved than she cared to admit, she finished the salad while pretending to watch the news. As soon as she had taken the last bite, Jack took the bowl from her and put it in the kitchen. When he returned, he turned off the television before sitting on the sofa, angling his body so he could better see her face.

"The Doctor told me we're psychically bonded."

"He shouldn't have."

"I asked. I didn't understand how I knew you were in trouble."

"He still shouldn't have," she replied half-heartedly. Jack was giving her one of those intense looks that usually made her insides melt. Only this time, it was coupled with a enough circumspection to put her on guard.

"So I guess you weren't going to tell me."

"No, I wasn't," she admitted defensively. "I don't want to pressure you. When you remember, you can make a decision, but I know you don't completely trust me."

"Of course I trust you."

"Really?" She was more than ready to test his belief. "Completely? To the point where you feel comfortable letting me crawl in your mind, seeing exactly who you are? All your strengths? Your weaknesses? Your most shameful failings? Your smallest vanities? The fears you harbor secretly in your heart? Are you prepared to do that right now, Jack?"

He swallowed, clenching his jaw, and when he spoke, she had already guessed his answer.

"I care for you, Melissa, but I'm not entirely sure who you are now." Taking her hand, he added softly, "I'd like to find out, though. So, I guess you're right, until I do remember, maybe we should take it slowly."

Somehow, she managed to look gracious. "Of course. That's why I didn't want to tell you in the first place."

She sat on the sofa pretending to watch TV for eleven minutes and thirty-seven seconds before professing to feeling tired. Asking Jack to apologize to the Doctor for skipping dessert, she let him give her a hug before retreating to her room. She needed to have a good cry, and one thing being human had taught her was that pity parties were best held in private.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After pacing around the den most of the morning in between phone calls to Ianto and Gwen, Jack decided that he had to do something productive before he went crazy. There were some large pieces of wood leftover from winter that needed to be split, so he found the ax and got to work. The Doctor joined him outside a half hour later, giving up on his plan to do some TARDIS maintenance.

They were chatting amicably, intentionally avoiding any serious topic when they saw Melissa approach. Immediately, they both noticed something was off, and as she walked closer they could feel it. It was a sunny day, almost summerlike, but she was wearing her Norwegian sweater zipped up tight. Wringing her hands, she had a tense look of fright on her too pale face, and her forehead was lined with sweat.

"Sweetheart?"

"Jack, do you know where the kids are? I can't find them."

The Doctor had his screwdriver out before the Captain could blink. Hearing its whine, Melissa grabbed it out of his hand, but he really didn't need it to know what was wrong. Talking to her very gently, he began to lead her to the TARDIS, Jack following close behind.

"Why don't we go see if they're in the TARDIS, eh? It's nice and warm in there. You look a little cold. In fact, you look like you could use a rest. Why don't you have a lie down while Jack and I look?"

Confused, she peered up at him as he led her back inside, but it was difficult to focus on his face. All of the sudden, she felt too exhausted to move, and she began to stumble as her feet dragged behind her. Dimly, she was aware of Jack picking her up before losing consciousness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Waking up in the TARDIS infirmary, the first thing Melissa noticed was she was wearing the stupid oxygen mask again. When she tried to take it off, someone grabbed her hand.

"Not this time, Sleeping Beauty. You may be feeling better, but you're going to wait a while. Don't want you fainting again when you stand up, or the Doc and I might start to think that you enjoy head trauma. That bump on your head isn't healing, you know."

Jack was peering down at her, a huge, relieved grin on his face. It was too difficult to speak with the mask on, so she settled for looking around the room in search of the Doctor. When she saw him lying next to her, hooked up to tubes that led directly to her vein, she understood at once that they were performing a direct blood transfusion. Frantically, she tried to stop the procedure.

"Calm down! Melissa, calm down!"

Jack held her down until she stopped struggling, and then slowly eased the pressure he was exerting on her body. When she didn't move, he let go of her entirely.

"He's going to be fine. I've programmed it to stop at two units. Your body wasn't producing blood cells quickly enough, and you went into some kind of delayed shock. If you want a better explanation, ask the Doctor. We didn't have time to find any artificial blood that would be compatible."

Pulling down the mask, she argued, "He's still healing, Jack. This wasn't a good idea."

"Your hearts had stopped beating by the time we got you here, Sweetheart. It was the only idea. We didn't have time for better options. He's resting, and you should too. I don't want to lose either one of you."

Carefully, he put the mask back on her face, effectively ending the discussion.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Captain, that smells horrendous, and I think it would be classified as a controlled substance in the Opivel star cluster. You don't actually expect us to eat it do you?"

Grinning, he ladled the soup into two large bowls, ignoring the Doctor's melodramatic protest. Placing them in front of the Time Lords, he grabbed the bag of KFC he had bought for himself.

"Eat up; it's good for you. And, no banana splits for dessert unless you clean your bowls." Smirking, he took a huge bite of his fried chicken, and then deliberately licked his fingers.

Experimentally dunking her spoon in the thick, greenish liquid, Melissa looked jealously at Jack's chicken. "Where'd you get this? I don't see a Campbell's can on the counter."

"I made it," he said proudly.

"Oh, come on, Jack. You don't cook unless it's on a grill. The closest you get to home cooking is calling Malcolm and asking him to send a curry and a chocolate cheesecake to the house."

His chicken momentarily forgotten, Jack gave her an odd look. "Actually, Ianto's been giving me lessons. I can follow a recipe fairly well now. So, dig in."

Reluctantly, she did just that, the Doctor following when she didn't spit it out. "It's not terrible," she admitted in an exaggerated tone of voice. "In fact, it's the best cream of celery soup I've ever tasted."

"Really?" he asked, preening just a little.

"Really. Then, laying it on thick, she added, "Of course, it's also the only cream of celery soup I've ever tasted."

Chuckling, he took another bite of his chicken. "Okay, I probably deserved that one. What do you think, Doc?"

"I think," the Doctor responded between bites, "that I'd prefer a protein cube."

They finished dinner in companionable silence. After eating something so revoltingly healthy, the two Time Lords were looking forward to a sugar fix. In fact, Melissa planned to accidently drop the soup pot when cleaning the kitchen. The Doctor was right; it smelled awful.

"Now, this is more like it," the Doctor exclaimed enthusiastically as he spooned some orange marmalade on top of his Chunky Monkey banana split.

Keeping his own ice cream well away from such nontraditional toppings, Jack watched Melissa fix a huge banana split for herself, heavy on the chocolate sauce and pineapple. Incredulous, he watched her finish it in less than three minutes.

"Well, you must be feeling better. That rivals the ten pancakes I once saw you put away."

He had made the comment unthinkingly, and it took him a moment to notice the radiant look of expectation on her face.

"You remember that?"

Disconcerted, he thought for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Not really. I just knew it was true. Sorry."

When he saw the smile on her face turn to a sad frown, he quickly asked, "Is there some way to make me remember?"

"It's best you remember on your own, Captain." Looking searchingly at Melissa, the Doctor inquired, "Did Jack ever remember the proper timeline in the alternate?"

If anything, the frown deepened on her face. "Yes," she answered tersely, hoping he would drop the subject.

"Was there a trigger?"

Of course the Doctor wasn't going to drop the subject. "Yes," she answered again, keeping her voice curt and giving him a good glare.

Even the Doctor got the message that time, but it was Jack who wouldn't let it drop. "What was the trigger? Maybe we can reproduce it."

"You can't."

"Why not?" Then, when she didn't answer, he became serious. "Tell me; I want to know."

"Jack don't."

"I want to know. Melissa, please."

"No you don't," she answered heatedly, her voice rising by a few decibels.

"I do."

Her emotions got the better of her, and she decided to tell him exactly what had triggered his memories in the other timeline. Spite dripping from her voice, she let loose her tongue.

"Perfect. You want to know the trigger, Jack? That moron Hart kidnapped you and took you to Boeshane where your psychotic brother tortured you for several months. What he did to you was so brutal that it triggered your memories of the Valiant, and everything cascaded from there. Eventually, he tired of playing with you, so he poisoned you. You told me it took you a long time to die, but you managed to steal your Vortex Manipulator and eventually escape back to Earth."

Voice shaking with rage and grief, she viciously continued. "And you know what? I'm not sure I would count that as one of the top five awful things that happened in the alternate. Do you want to know how Sarah Jane and her son died? Or what Billis Manger did in that timeline? How about Marshall? Want to know about the time Ianto and Owen were held hostage by a blowfish high on cocaine? Or why Susan stopped talking to me? Because you made a promise, Jack. You promised to remember, but you don't, do you? So you take it slowly if you want. You prove to yourself that I'm not like that bastard, or don't. I don't care anymore. Go back to Cardiff. Live in that little hidey hole you call a bedroom and fuck Ianto senseless every night for all I care. I'm on my last regeneration. I have another thousand years if I'm careful-which I'm not, and I don't want to waste time waiting around for you to decide I'm worthy of your affection."

Seething with pent up rage and grief, and horrified at what she had said, she didn't give either one of them time to react. She ran blindly out of the house, past the UNIT guards and down the hill, and she didn't stop running until she physically couldn't go any farther.

Looking intently at his former companion, the Doctor picked up Melissa's car keys, holding them out in his hand. "One of us is going after her, and if it's me, you'd better not be here when we return."

Reeling from what he'd heard, Jack didn't even hesitate. Snatching the keys away from his friend, he strode purposefully out the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He didn't find her until just after midnight, and then only because UNIT had gotten a call from the local police informing them of her whereabouts. Driving towards the school, he wished he had thought of looking there sooner. As soon as he pulled up to the main entrance, the patrolman studied him carefully.

Getting out of the car, Jack wished he had the psychic paper with him. The officer looked less than impressed to see him. Still, he gave the police officer a confident smile as he stuck out his hand, and the man automatically shook it.

"Captain Jack Harkness," he said confidently by way of introduction. "Thank you calling in Melissa's whereabouts."

Jack's charm didn't work on the older looking man. "Took you long enough. When UNIT said not to call in a response team, I was anxious, to say the least. Ms. Morgan's picture's been on the local news enough the last few days for me to recognize her, and I know her kids' deaths must have upset her terribly. She should get some help."

Smoothly interjecting, Jack remarked, "The local news is precisely why I asked to keep this quiet. She doesn't need any more publicity. Don't worry, I'll take it from here."

Obviously reluctant, the policeman pointed in the direction of the school. "Front door's unlocked. The access to the roof is on the Western wing of the building." Then, menacingly, he added, "And I'm staying here until you talk her down, regardless of UNIT orders. This is America, and the United Nations doesn't have the authority to order me around yet. She may be an alien like the rumors say, but she just lost her kids, and I'm not going to let you people use this as an excuse to get her out of the way."

Jack's congenial façade cracked. "What rumors? Who told you she was an alien?"

"Don't know where they started, but most everyone in the department and the media has heard them. Everyone around here knows that UNIT's involved with weird stuff, and now that we all know about aliens, lots of reporters are wondering why her house is ringed by UNIT troops. They're starting to dig around in her past, and I've heard that she and those kids just appeared out of thin air four years ago. Sounds like something out of a movie, if you ask me, but there are a couple of local reporters who'd like to make it to the networks, and a story of aliens living among us just might do it."

As Jack digested that bit of information, the patrolman said acerbically. "You okay, Captain? You look a little sick. Still sure you're the one who should be going up there? Anything happens to her tonight, I will arrest you, and you will be prosecuted."

Glancing at the man's name badge, he said automatically, "I'm fine, Sergeant Reynolds." Then, he looked up towards the roof, and the guilt of what he'd pushed Melissa to do almost crushed him. "Look, nothing's going to happen. I just want to go up there and bring my wife home. She just needs some rest."

"Your wife? Aren't you with UNIT?"

"Yes to both."

"Does UNIT really does chase aliens?"

"It really does," he confirmed with a sigh before looking beseechingly at the patrolman. "Look, it's been a rough few days for both of us, but I know Melissa's not suicidal. I'd really just like to take her home without a fuss being made. If I promise to lock the door behind me, you think you could give us some time alone? It's been almost impossible to really talk to her with the presence of the UNIT grunts, even if they are there for our protection."

He finished regretfully, a catch in his voice. "Unfortunately, I've been involved with enough UNIT operations to make my family a target, and I thought I was protecting them by sending them here. It never occurred to me that a school trip could turn deadly. They were just going to see a friend, for God's sake!"

Taking pity on the Captain, Sergeant Reynolds left as Jack entered the building. While he walked upstairs to find the roof access, he reviewed everything he had told the patrolman. He had never actually said Melissa was not an alien, so he had not lied. He had confirmed that UNIT dealt with aliens, but everything had changed, and UNIT would just have to handle the publicity.

He really had no idea whether Melissa could be considered his wife since she wasn't exactly the person he married, but that wasn't something he was ready to think about just yet. Several reporters from the tabloids owed him favors, so he could have a few of them call the local stations asking misleading questions. That should quash the rumors in Colorado Springs. As for Washington, he would take care of those pencil pushers himself. The time for niceties was over.

Cursing the bureaucracy, he climbed onto the roof, which was flat and dull. Melissa was sitting on the edge, her legs swinging absently as she looked into the sky. No wonder the patrolman had been concerned. Sitting down next to her, he looked at the stars for a few minutes. Colorado Springs had less light pollution than Cardiff, and the night was clear and bright.

"I didn't deliberately break my promise."

She shrugged, but didn't look at him. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"I thought you'd be angry because I wouldn't let you and the Doctor help with Gray. I thought you'd blame me for all the deaths in the city, for Owen and Tosh, just like I blame myself. I couldn't even save him. He's frozen in the vaults."

His heartfelt confession thawed the last of her anger, and she took his hand. "You tried to protect me, Jack. I can't blame you for that. My mind was burning. I had all that knowledge packed into a human brain. It just isn't wired for that much information. But I wanted to help. I could see the possibilities all too clearly."

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes before Melissa felt like talking again. "You know, I never thought about how much I would miss Owen. He was a good friend, to both of us."

"So, you worked for Torchwood in the other timeline? What was it like?"

She pondered her answer for a while before smiling. "It was very domestic."

"Really? How?"

"Well, Gwen had Rhys, who knew all about her work, Owen had Tosh, and Ianto had Susan."

"You're kidding me. Owen and Tosh I can believe, but Ianto and Susan?"

"I'm not sure whether the young Mr. Jones originally started dating her to provoke you, or if he was always attracted to her, but they ended up living together."

After a pause, Jack said quietly, "And I had you."

Keeping it light, she flashed him a grin. "Like I said, very domestic. Matthew was the odd man out, but he went from girl to girl at his school and didn't seem to care."

"You shouldn't have to keep it all to yourself, Sweetheart. You can tell me; maybe it'll help me remember."

Suddenly, her eyes were haunted. "I can't, Jack. If I simply tell you, then it's just a story, and I don't want your pity. I want you to remember. Then, it'll be something we share."

Tucking her hair behind her ears, he brushed his thumb over her cheek. "I hate waiting."

"But you're very good at it," she countered softly, determined not to get her hopes crushed.

He kissed her tenderly, once again trusting his instincts. With a leap of faith, he hesitantly reached for her with his mind.

He found her near the all too bleak chasm. She was sitting forlornly on a stone bench that blended seamlessly with the rock face, her head bent low. Sensing his presence, she looked up, and the depth of pain and misery in her eyes pierced his soul. Wordlessly, he sat down and put his arm around her. She leaned against him, and they shared their sorrow, finding comfort in each other, until a brief flash of memory jolted him back to an awareness of the physical world.

Deeply disturbed, he looked at her in horror. "They died there, too. I saw their bodies. Susan and Matthew lying on the floor of the conference room. Their blood was everywhere. They were killed in the Hub. We . . . we had been trying to protect them, but we couldn't."

"Jack," she interrupted firmly, before he could become any more agitated. "You only remember a part of that. It was Manger, Jack. He killed them, and Owen opened the Rift. You died defeating Abbadon, and I was worried you'd be lost forever, but you came back and so did the kids. They didn't even realize it had happened. It turned out fine."

It took him a moment to accept her reassurances, but when he did, all he could think about was how much pain she was keeping to herself. It was obvious to him that a portion of it had to do with the defunct timeline.

"Sweetheart, you can't bottle your grief waiting for me to remember. At least talk to the Doctor about some of it."

"Why?" she asked acerbically. "So he can feel guilty and abandon me faster?"

Ouch. He had definitely poked an old wound. Still, he tried to defend his friend. "Of course he runs, Melissa, but even as a human, I think you were the exception that proved the rule. You think he normally pops in to see old friends? Ask Sarah Jane Smith how long she waited to see him again. And, yeah, okay, he does have a tendency to cut and run when things become difficult. Tegan Jovanka could testify to that even if I couldn't. Hell, I had to jump onto the outside of the TARDIS just to talk to him. And, the guy's got some emotional issues as well. Rose used a dimension cannon to do the impossible, and he left her with a human copy."

She opened her mouth to tell him that what he was saying wasn't helping matters, but Jack continued in a rush before she could comment.

"But, you, Sweetheart, you he returned to time and time again. He saved your life when you took aspirin. He went back on his own timeline to save your life again when Marshall attacked you. He showed up at your doorstep when he was injured on the Titanic. And, he took you to Celara Six for their new year's celebration. Hell, he even let you kiss him. Mickey Smith called yesterday asking how you were, and mentioned camping with the Doctor, Rose, you and the kids. Even as a human, you were someone special to him, and he's not going to abandon you now."

She was not unmoved by his arguments. Wrapped up in her grief, she hadn't taken the time to think about the Doctor's more recent actions. But she was still bitter enough to feel the sting of his original betrayal.

"He left me, Jack. Our daughter was killed, and he stole our granddaughter and ran away. He left me all alone in a big, empty house, and he never came back. I didn't even see him again until the day we realized we'd both been wrong, but by then it was too late."

Stunned by her revelation, he nevertheless tried to convince her for the Doctor's sake as well as her own. "I can't begin to defend him for that, but I know he cares for you deeply. Maybe it's time to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Maybe."

Stiffly, she stood up to peer over the roof. There was a dreary view of the sidewalk in front of the school, and it didn't hold her interest for long. Intending to take a step backwards, she had a sudden sense of vertigo, and stumbled. Jack managed to grab her before he was unwillingly pulled into her mind.

He briefly saw himself, standing with her on the roof of the Millennium Center. They were both looking up to the starlight, tears on their faces. She had been holding . . . something, but it was impossible to make out before the door to her memory slammed shut. Instantly, he was transported to a roomful of closed doors, although the doors were in various states of disrepair, and some of them were off their hinges completely.

Curious, he started to peak inside one when she appeared in front of him in a black military uniform. Her arms were crossed defensively in front of her, and her face was covered in blood.

"Please, Jack. Get out. My barriers are weaker than I thought."

"I didn't mean to be here in the first place," he apologized, hating to see her so obviously in distress, even if it was a mental image. "You almost fell off the roof, and when I grabbed you, I ended up here."

"I'm not angry," she said tiredly. "I just need you to get out. I'd give you a push, but I'm busy doing a little housekeeping at the moment."

Sensing her fatigue, he didn't need to be told twice. Concentrating, he thought of existing solely in his own mind, and was somewhat surprised to find that he had managed to reconnect to the physical world. They were only a step away from the edge of the roof, and she was limp in his arms, a vacant expression on her face. Very carefully, he continued to back up, until they were in the center of the roof. By then, she had straightened.

"Thanks. I'm okay now."

"Good, because the Doctor will have both our hides if you fall off that ladder."

When they returned to the house, it was dark and quiet, although the TARDIS was still parked in Matthew's room. Grateful that she didn't have to confront the Doctor, and more tired than she cared to admit, she went to bed immediately. Jack, however, took out his mobile; he needed to make some calls.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Melissa woke abruptly just a few hours later, sensing that the Doctor was with her in the room. Sure enough, he was sitting on the chair pretending to read an Agatha Christie novel. Not acknowledging his presence, she went into the bathroom, took a shower, dressed, and spent twenty-three minutes staring at the mirror. Finally, she walked back into her bedroom to confront him.

"Why do you make everything so difficult, Doc? Why haven't you left already? Because the longer you stay, the worse it's going to hurt when you leave."

"I'm not leaving, Em. I made that mistake with you once, and I promise I'm not going to do it again."

He went from serious to whimsical in the space of a second, and before she could reply, he added, "Although, I am taking a trip-with you, of course. Jack's got some errands to run, and I thought you might like to get out of the house. The moon's not setting until after sunrise, and the view of the kissing camels at Garden of the Gods will be superb!"

Begrudgingly, she put on her hiking boots. It was impossible to argue with him when he was in such an enthusiastic mood. Leaving the house with a heavy sigh, she had a feeling that it was going to be a very long day.


	49. Chalk Murals in a Thunderstorm

Author's Notes - Thank you to dwatlaskrhtcm for the feedback. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>Reaching Garden of the Gods as it opened at five, Melissa and the Doctor parked the car as soon possible and began to walk. The Doctor had finally admitted that Jack had gone to London to speak with the Prime Minister, and might have to go to Washington later. She didn't press for details, suspecting she would not like the reason for his meetings. Instead, she tried to enjoy the fresh air as they walked between the rocks.<p>

As dawn approached, they climbed onto one of the more stable formations to watch the sunrise in the moonlight.

"Do you remember Brilam? The rock formations were riddled with so many holes that they whistled in the wind. Jorvik was so sure they were some sort of previously unknown life form that he wasted six months of the expedition's allotted time trying to force the random sounds into a language."

"Jorvik was never all that clever," she remarked fondly. "I know for a fact he was allowed on the expeditions only because his father bribed the Chancellor. Amak thought he'd be less embarrassed of him if he stayed off world, but that backfired spectacularly."

"Yes, it did." He chuckled in agreement, lost in memory.

Abruptly, she demanded, "How did you stand the silence? My mind was so empty I thought I would go crazy at times."

The unexpected change to such a painful topic was disconcerting, but the Doctor did his best to deflect her concern. "Who says I didn't?" he remarked with a wry grin.

When it was obvious that she wasn't amused, he sobered rapidly. "It was unbearable at first. I think I was suicidal for a while. I went from place to place putting myself into situations where I might die, and most times I hoped I would."

She twisted the edge of her shirt, not quite sure how to broach the subject. "And then you found Rose."

"And then I found Rose," he agreed softly.

"I'm glad. Even if she couldn't help fill the silence, I'm glad you weren't alone."

Grateful, he squeezed her hand and was pleased when she didn't pull it away.

"I saw the Emergency Program."

"The one I made for Rose?"

"The one you made for me. The TARDIS played it for me in the alternate."

"She's a funny old girl sometimes, but I'm glad she did, Em. I meant what I said. I should have taken you with us."

"I would have come if you'd asked," she confessed tremulously.

"Would you? Then I was twice the fool."

Feeling the sunshine brush their backs, the Doctor said quietly, "Jack's a good man. I can see why you bonded with him."

"Good, because despite my momentary breakdown yesterday, I'm going to stay in Cardiff."

"I thought you would both join me in the TARDIS?" He had assumed she and Jack would be together, but he had also assumed that they would be together with him. His voice held more than a little hurt.

"I'm pretty sure Jack loves Ianto, and I'm not going to make him choose between us. It's unfair, considering how little time he'll be able to spend with either one of us. When he's ready, we'll contact you. It shouldn't take more than seventy years or so. Humans don't live very long."

Immediately, he came to a decision. If all it took was seventy years to gain back her trust, then it was a small price to pay. "I said I wasn't leaving you, and I meant that."

"You're going to stay in Cardiff?"

"Yep." Then, with a mischievous grin, he asked, "Who do you think pays better, Torchwood or UNIT?"

Almost giddy, she beamed at him. "I think you'll like Torchwood, Doc. There's no saluting, for one thing, and they have a pet pteranodon that likes to eat chocolate. Plus, Mr. Jones makes spectacular coffee."

"But they still have guns."

"They need them," she declared emphatically. "The Rift spits out some nasty surprises, and humans don't have the luxury of regeneration. Jack tries to shield his team as much as possible, but he isn't always successful, and you know the pain he feels when he dies. So, yes, they use guns, but they're not mindless soldiers. They're trained to think first, but if they see someone harming a civilian, they won't hesitate to fire."

"I can't carry a gun, Em, not after everything I did in the War."

"Then don't. The screwdriver works just as well, if not better, and you know it. No one's going to make you kill."

"But sometimes I end up having to."

"That's because you know it's sometimes necessary." Hating the turn the conversation had taken, she tried to lighten the tone. "Besides, every once in a while, there are those glorious days when everybody lives. Jack told me about one in particular."

"He did, did he? Did he mention the dancing?"

"It's Jack; of course he mentioned the dancing. He said something about you being a little rusty?"

"Oi! I wasn't rusty. Just had to find the right rhythm."

"Took you an awful long time. Rose texted me when you two started dancing, and it was a whole week after the camping trip."

He sobered immediately and it had nothing to do with discussing his sexual relationship with Rose Tyler. "You could have lost your eye on that outing, and I was so self-absorbed that I didn't even notice how seriously you had been injured. If you had taken much longer to return, the damage would have been permanent."

Ignoring his guilt ridden confession entirely, she snorted in laughter. "You weren't self-absorbed, you were Rose-absorbed. It was cute, really, and ironic in the extreme. That night in the infirmary she was upset because she wanted more from you, and I encouraged her to get it. Guess it worked."

"I was not cute!" he protested indignantly.

"You had her on your lap, telling her bedtime stories in front of the campfire. It was very cute, and Mickey almost gagged."

"Well," he drawled, looking a little sheepish. "I may have been a trifle unfair to Mr. Mickey before we went to Pete's World."

"A trifle? You practically ignored him."

"I did, didn't I? I suppose I will have to make amends now that I'll be working with him." Only half joking, he wheedled, "Are you sure Jack couldn't convince Mr. Jones to join us on the TARDIS?"

"No," she said with absolute finality. The TARDIS was big, but she didn't think it was that big. "Why? Are you regretting your promise so soon?"

"Of course not," he answered with alacrity. "It's just that I realized I have quite a number of former companions living on Earth in the early twenty-first century, and not all of them are as forgiving as Sarah Jane."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They spent most of the morning walking through the rock formations chatting sociably about a variety of subjects, but by eleven-thirty, Melissa declared that she was ravenous. The Doctor suggested that they eat at the Trading Post since it was convenient, and she readily agreed. The tourist shop was crowded with a school group on an end of year field trip and a modest sprinkling of senior citizens getting an early start to the summer travel season. Almost everyone was browsing in the gift shop, however, so they were able to order lunch fairly quickly.

Sitting at a table near the counter, Melissa sipped her watery hot chocolate while waiting for their number to be called. It had been a good morning. She had enjoyed the Doctor's company, and her grief, while ever present, hadn't been as oppressive as it had been even the day before. She had actually enjoyed herself at times, although there was a small part of her that felt guilty about that.

Now, however, she felt tired and worn out. She'd had a headache all morning, but it was really starting to pound, and she didn't notice their number had been called until the Doctor returned with a tray full of food. She picked at her hamburger, nodding listlessly at his animated observations, and it wasn't long before he noticed something was wrong.

"Em? Are you feeling alright? Would you like to stay here while I get the car?"

"I'm perfect," she replied automatically before the throbbing of her head increased to a tempo that she had to admit wasn't perfect at all. "Just a headache. It's nothing to worry about."

But all of a sudden she felt like she was getting a migraine, just like she used to. Every one of her senses had sharpened to the point of being painful, and the presence of so many people had become torturous. Wherever she looked, she saw too many timelines streaming from the people who were shopping in the store.

_The boy with the piece of fudge melting in his chubby right hand would grow up to be a doctor, or wouldn't grow up at all, or he would be bullied to the point where he himself became a bully, or he would accidently smear the fudge on the bus driver's seat, causing an accident where two children were killed, or he would bump into the frail, elderly woman who was looking at key chains for her granddaughter, causing her to fall and break her hip._

_The old woman might also slip in the restroom in thirteen minutes and sue the owners, or she might accidently send a key chain to her granddaughter with the wrong name on it, precipitating her placement in a nursing home, or she might die of bladder cancer after ignoring the symptoms for too long, or she might be inspired from this very trip to take up photography, or-_

It was too much. She put her hands to her face, squeezing her eyes shut, but she was beginning to hear the echoes of the potential timelines in addition to just seeing them. The perceptions that were normally no more noticeable than a background hum now became a discordant, concussive symphony, and she became increasingly disoriented.

Alarmed, the Doctor put his hand on her arm, but that just made everything worse. In a flash, his complex potential timelines became the cymbals of the cacophony, and she twisted out of his grasp, staggering to the exit. Blindly pushing open the door, she stumbled outside, and would have stepped right in front of a speeding car if a hiker hadn't pushed her out of its path.

Tires screeching, the car skidded to a stop. Someone was yelling at her, demanding to know why she hadn't looked where she was going, but she couldn't tell if it was the driver, the hiker or someone in the growing crowd. She continued to back up, hoping if she got far enough away, her perceptions would diminish enough to be bearable, but people were touching her, and some of them knew her name, and she didn't understand why, and she kept backing up, but she tripped over something and fell on the ground, and there were even more people closing in, and she didn't have the strength to fight them all. Clutching her head, she began to scream.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

All of a sudden, everything seemed less oppressive, and Melissa tentatively stood up to find herself in a dimly lit room. It was a strange room, to be sure; there were all these open doors, too many to fit in the small room, really. And, stranger still, they all seemed to be leaking colors like chalk murals in a thunderstorm.

"Is this any better, Emma?"

There was a man standing in front of her, his appearance flickering and twisting into different forms, but no matter what he looked like, she could tell that he was concerned about her and wanted to help. Knowing that she wasn't alone made the thunderous noises and blinding lights soften even further, and she found that she was able to speak.

"You keep changing."

"Can't be helped, I'm afraid. I'm stretched a little thin at the moment, trying to muffle your perceptions while assuring all the nice people here that you'll be fine, although I think several of them have called for an ambulance, so we'll probably get to enjoy a ride to hospital before all this is over."

She mulled that over for a while, and he patiently let her think, until she finally came to a conclusion. "Something's wrong, in my mind. Something's missing."

"Yes!" he concurred delightedly, as if she were a clever student answering a particularly difficult question. "Your barriers are gone completely, and not just the ones that keep other people's thoughts out of the lovely head of yours, but the ones that filter your perceptions."

It took her a moment to understand what he meant, but when she finally did, she was terrified. Almost immediately, she found herself sitting on a comfortable couch, the man sitting so close to her that their legs brushed together. He wasn't flickering so much now, and when he put his arm around her, she calmed considerably.

"I warned you about doing something ridiculously stupid," he told her softly, a look of tender concern his face. "The next time you bleed yourself to the point of unconsciousness, perhaps you should stay away from the kitchen. You cracked your head on the corner of the countertop, and that brain of yours has finally decided to swell nicely."

Vaguely, she remembered doing just that. It was difficult to care while sitting contentedly with the funny looking man, but the sounds were getting loud again, so she finally asked, "When will it get better?"

For the first time, the man looked, not quite worried, but hesitant, like he had something he needed to tell her and knew she wasn't going to like it. Then, just as quickly, he brightened, a cheerful grin on his face. "The swelling's already going down. You shouldn't even have so much as a headache in ten hours. And, you just need some help rebuilding the barriers. Luckily, you've got me."

The smile on his face was forced; there was a hint of mania in his eyes, and she knew that something he had told her was not exactly right. But she couldn't figure it out, and after a while gave up trying.

"When?"

"No time like the present! Actually, this is a perfect time because we're both in the back of the ambulance, and only the paramedic is with you. When you do arrive at hospital, I'm sure they'll want to perform a CT scan and other nonsense, and physicians tend to frown on visitors at that point, although I promise you I will be nearby, and you when you wake up, you won't be alone."

He was talking too much, not that he ever stopped, but she knew instinctively that he was trying to distract her from something, although she just couldn't think of what. However, she didn't have time to ponder very long. Lying lazily on the couch, she watched the man stand resolutely in the center of the room, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a carpenter's belt around his waist. She smiled because she knew the mental image was much too simplistic, and he had never been a carpenter. No, he was a doctor, and he was going to make her better.

Already the noise was being drowned out as he built thin, temporary walls around the cozy room. Intrigued, she got up to stand beside him, watching him work, until with a smile, he handed her the hammer and let her build some for herself. That task completed, she found herself feeling much better, and realized with a start that the man in front of her wasn't just any doctor, he was the Doctor, and her situation must have been grave indeed for him to enter her mind without permission.

"Doctor?"

"Hullo! Feeling better?"

"Much."

"Good!" he said in that overly cheerful voice that usually meant the worst wasn't over. "There's just one more thing to do, and then I'll leave you to yourself."

Glancing around the room, she finally saw the growing pool of colors swirling at her feet. They were coming from the doors, which were still opened wide. The Doctor was suddenly soaking up all the colors, carefully returning them to individual doors before patching them up and closing them firmly.

She watched in appreciation, thinking that she was much too tired to do that herself, when it suddenly dawned on her exactly what the colors were, and exactly what he was doing. All of her memories were a jumbled mess, and he was sorting them out, only in doing so there was no way for him not to see each and every one.

"Don't," she wailed, even as she acknowledged that he was only doing what was necessary. His speed merely increased, until every door was closed, and the room was its usual drab brown and white. Without a word, he slipped out of her mind, and she was profoundly grateful. She didn't think she could face him just then.

Tears flowing freely down his face, the Doctor held Melissa's hand as they rode in the back of the ambulance to Colorado Springs Memorial Medical Center. Physically, she would recover completely in a few weeks-he had seen to that. But he wasn't sure about her emotional wellbeing, not after seeing the heartbreak of the alternate reality. He had to contact Jack as soon as possible. She needed him, even if he didn't remember why just yet.

Waking briefly, Melissa felt a pressure on her right hand and opened her eyes. She was in an ambulance, yet another oxygen mask on her face, and a paramedic sitting tensely on her left. The Doctor was on her right.

"I'm so sorry, Em. Jack will be here soon, I promise."

Grasping at the oxygen mask, she managed to pull it down before the paramedic forced her hands away. "Don't."

"I won't tell him," he assured her, guessing what she had been trying to say. "He needs to discover it on his own, and he will. It's just going to take some time."

Weakly, she nodded before closing her eyes again. Her head still hurt, even if she was no longer being overwhelmed by her senses, and she found it much easier to sleep. In fact, she slept right through their arrival at the hospital.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack sat across from the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, trying to be civil. Ianto sat on his right, and each time Jack had opened his mouth to say something threatening, the Welshman had discreetly stepped on his foot. It had worked so far, but the Captain was rapidly losing his patience.

"Captain Harkness, as I explained to Brigadier General Leftbridge-Stewart, the decision to release bodies from the Dalek attack on the Pentagon isn't up to me. It's a matter for the local coroner. I'm sure Susan and Matthew Morgan's remains will be released as soon as possible. Ms. Morgan isn't the only mother to have lost children in the attack.

"Bullshit," Jack growled, ignoring Ianto's pressure on his foot. "Dr. Jeffries informed me that the Pentagon is the only one authorized to release the remains. He said you were specifically holding the kids' bodies for autopsy, which is pointless, since we know exactly what killed them!"

Looking flustered, the general changed tactics. "As you know, we've suffered major losses. Frankly, we're having a difficult time merely processing the paperwork to release remains to family members, and you aren't the only one impatient at the delay. Hell, we haven't even identified all the bodies yet. I am sorry, Captain Harkness, but I'm sure in a week or two the process will be streamlined enough to release their bodies."

"Today," Jack countered, tired of playing games.

"I'm sorry, Captain Harkness, that just isn't possible."

The four- star general looked very smug, until Jack smiled at him. It was not a pleasant smile, and involuntarily, the man shivered.

"General Iverson, I think you'll find that it is. As I said to your aide several days ago, I work for Torchwood, and Torchwood's been around a lot longer than UNIT. We've had much more time to collect bright and shiny toys, toys you might be interested in testing. And believe me, whatever we give you will be much more exciting than the bodies of two teenagers who will prove to be nothing more than human."

Intrigued, the general couldn't help but ask, "What do you have in mind?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Grabbing a cup of horrid coffee during a break in negotiations, Jack's phone began to ring. He answered cheerfully, confident that he would be able to give Melissa some good news for a change. However, it was the Doctor on the line, and his face turned a sickly green as he protested that he hadn't felt anything amiss.

"Is something the matter, Jack?"

His mind racing, Jack looked distractedly at Ianto before telling him tersely, "I've got to leave."

Before the Welshman could ask a single question, the Captain was striding into the general's office, his patience gone completely. "I want those kids' bodies released, and I want it done today. What's it going to take?"

General Iverson looked at Jack shrewdly, knowing something important had changed. "Well, Captain, we've been given to understand that Torchwood has taken possession of Project Indigo from UNIT—"

"Fine," he interjected, not wanting to waste any more time. Tapping his Vortex Manipulator, he disappeared, reappearing some seconds later with the teleportation device in his hand. Throwing it negligently on the general's desk, he warned, "I expect you to keep your end of the bargain. I'll be leaving Mr. Jones here to make the arrangements."

Without giving the general a chance to reply, he flashed out of existence.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack sped dangerously through town as he drove Melissa's car to the hospital, trying not to worry. He would have materialized inside the hospital, but the media didn't need any more reasons to investigate her status as a human being. He had teleported to Garden of the Gods, finding the car exactly where the Doctor had said it would be.

Entering through the emergency room, he walked up to the counter. "My wife, Melissa Morgan, was brought in by ambulance. Can you tell me where to find her?"

After a brief check on the computer, the ER clerk told him, "She's already been admitted to the ICU. It's on the seventh floor."

"Yeah, I know," me mumbled in lieu of thanks. The Doctor had promised him that her condition wasn't life threatening, so why the hell was she there? Impatiently punching the button to call the elevator, he tried to remain calm.

He walked out onto the seventh floor of the hospital, his mind awash in unpleasant memories that had not dimmed in over a century. Finding the nurses' station, he inquired about Melissa's condition, but all he could get out of the nurse was a pile of paperwork to sign and a reply that the neurologist would be with him shortly. Very reluctantly, he took the clipboard full of papers to the waiting room.

The Doctor was inside, pacing around the tiny room, but as soon as he saw the Captain, he stilled. His eyes were so full of compassion that Jack feared the worst, and when the Time Lord crossed the room to give him a long hug, he was beside himself with worry. Eventually, the Doctor loosened his grip, stepping back to give his former companion a wan smile.

"Jack. You truly are the most remarkable man, and it's my honor to know you. From both of my hearts, I thank you."

Stupefied, he just stood there, the clipboard clutched in his left hand.

Then, as if he hadn't acted strangely at all, the Doctor remarked unperturbedly, "Don't forget the paperwork. The hospital was quite insistent that you had to be the one to fill it out."

Staring blankly at the papers, Jack dropped into a one of the padded green chairs.

"Is she going to live?"

The Doctor looked at his friend as if he had asked if the moon was made of green cheese. "Well, of course she's going to live! I told you it wasn't life threatening, didn't I?" Then, after a second's pause, he added, "Besides, you would know."

"Sorry," Jack said automatically, still reeling from the Doctor's earlier praise. "Just a lot of bad memories in this room. I didn't expect her to be in the ICU."

"Well, that was Dr. Perkins idea, not mine."

"A necessary precaution, considering the severity of her head injury, Doctor."

The man who walked into the waiting room was wearing a UNIT uniform underneath his white physician's coat. He was dark skinned, average height, average build, although his piercing gaze showed an above average intelligence, but most importantly, he was reassuring. Holding out his hand, he introduced himself to Jack as the Captain hastily stood up.

"Major Jonathon Perkins, Captain Harkness. It's an honor to meet you, although I wish it were under better circumstances. My son, Ralph, plays in the band at Falcon View, and we were all devastated to learn of Matthew and Susan's deaths. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," he answered, subdued. It was the first time anyone had commiserated with him about the death of the kids, and he felt oddly affected by it.

Getting to the point, the UNIT physician continued briskly. "Your wife is experiencing increased intracranial pressure as a result of cerebral edema following a head injury she suffered four days ago. It is not that unusual with a head injury like your wife's for the onset of the edema to be delayed, and the CT scan showed no hematoma. The excess fluid does seem to be decreasing on its own. We're monitoring closely to make sure her ICP continues to fall. Right now, she's on oxygen and the bed is elevated, but inserting a catheter to reduce the edema is an option if these measures do not produce the proper results."

"You won't need to do that," the Doctor interjected.

"I hope not, Doctor, but Captain Harkness should be made aware of all possibilities."

Then, continuing as if he hadn't been interrupted, he looked kindly at Jack. "We should know more in a few hours, but it looks promising. Once she's alert, we can order an MRI. You can go see her for a few minutes, but she's not conscious right now. Do you have any questions?"

Jack had questions, but he didn't think the physician was the one who could answer them. Mutely, he shook his head.

"Have one of the nurses page me if you think of anything you want to ask. I'll check back in an hour or so."

Nodding, Jack watched the man leave, and then turned immediately to the Doctor. "Is it as bad as it sounds?"

"No. I took care of most of the complications while we were in the ambulance."

"So, it was bad."

Trying to make light of it, the Doctor said, "That depends on your definition of bad." Seeing Jack's look of impatience, however, he admitted, "Yes, it was bad. Her mental barriers had eroded completely, but I was able to help her temporarily shore them up. In a couple weeks, she'll be as good as new."

"Will the swelling affect anything else?"

"It shouldn't."

"It shouldn't?" he asked skeptically. "Does that mean you don't know?"

"It means it shouldn't, Captain. The edema was resolving on its own by the time she was in the ambulance. I would have driven her home and put her in the TARDIS, but her collapse was rather public and the paramedics were rather adamant. Luckily, Alistair was able to send Major Perkins who has been briefed that Melissa is a Time Lord. Unfortunately, no one briefed him about the fact that I know much more than he does, and he's become rather stubborn in his insistence that she stay in the ICU."

Jack grinned for the first time since entering the hospital. Hurriedly, he scrawled his signature on a half-dozen pieces of paper. "I know that must be difficult for you, Doc."

"It is," he acknowledged with a wry smile. "But Dr. Perkins hasn't suggested anything that could actually harm her, so I haven't made an issue of it."

"Have they let you see her? I could take you with me if they haven't."

Pulling the Agatha Christie book from his pocket, he said, "I'm fine, Jack. You go ahead. She's probably still sleeping anyway."

Finished with the paperwork at last, Jack returned it to the nurses' station before asking to see Melissa. The nurse led him to the end of the hall, where she was hooked up to six different machines that beeped and blipped and made him anxious. As the doctor had explained, she was also being given oxygen, and the head of the bed was raised.

Sitting in the chair next to the bed, he took her hand. Her cool skin was soft and smooth, and he absently rubbed his thumb back and forth across her palm. He had sat next to her in hospitals too many times before, and wished that she could be a little more careful with her life. Not that she ever would be, he realized with a start. She chose to put herself in danger to protect others time and time again, and no doubt would do the same in the future. If she wasn't saving the Doctor's life, then she was doing something just as hazardous like putting herself between a Weevil and Owen.

Where had that thought come from? Straining, Jack tried to remember, but couldn't recall any details. Frustrated, he glanced over at the monitors, idly wondering if they were calibrated for her physiology, or if the nurses thought she was in much worse shape than she actually was.

He felt her give his thumb a squeeze, and was thrilled to find her awake. Leaning over, he kissed her forehead. "You know, if you wanted me back in Colorado, you could have just called."

She squeezed his hand harder, although she didn't try to talk. The nurse approached a few minutes later, apologetically informing Jack that Melissa needed to rest. Walking back into the waiting room, he plopped into one of the chairs, thinking that they weren't nearly as uncomfortable as he remembered. The relieved smile on his face told the Doctor all he needed to know.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Melissa was released from the hospital early the next afternoon once she had endured an MRI and several cognitive tests that she passed with flying colors. Of course, they were designed for humans, and she could have passed them even suffering from a significant deficit, but the Doctor had assured her that she was fine, and she trusted him enough to believe him. He did warn her that it would take some time for her mental barriers to strengthen completely. However, he assured her that she wouldn't have a repeat of what had happened at the Trading Post.

They hadn't discussed what he had seen in her mind, but by dinnertime his attentiveness was smothering her. When Jack remarked a little later that they were out of ice cream, all she had to do was express her disappointment to convince him to drive to the store. Left alone with the Doctor, she steeled herself for the conversation that was about to take place.

Walking inside the TARDIS to find him, she was momentarily taken aback when the ship began to sing to her in greeting. It was highly unusual since she wasn't its pilot, but then it was a very unusual TARDIS, and Melissa appreciated it very much. The welcome of the ship alerted the Doctor to her presence, and he hastily crawled out from underneath the grating, wiping his dirty hands on a rag.

"You can't keep doing this, Doc."

"Doing what?" he asked with all too innocent look on his face.

Sighing, she decided to be more direct. "I know you mean well, but I would never have shared some of those things with you, no matter what the circumstance. I'd rather you pretend you didn't see anything."

"How can I, knowing you're not mourning two children, but three? She was beautiful, Em."

Biting back tears, she sat down on the jump seat. "Yes, she was, but even if she had lived, she'd be gone. She never existed here. I have to accept that."

"Perhaps when Jack remembers—"

"No! That's exactly why I wish you hadn't seen everything. You know that wasn't planned. And you know how much my hearts ached when she died. I can't go through that again. Not after the way Susan and Matthew died. It was bad enough in the alternate thinking I would outlive them. Four children, all dead. If Time wanted me to be a mother, she would have at least let one of them live."

"You were a brilliant mother, the best. None of it was your fault."

"They're still dead," she said sadly.

"How can I just ignore what I've seen? You've kept so much hidden. There are so many holes in your memory. You don't know what happened to you at the end of the War. You don't even know how you ended up on that parallel Earth, or why your human childhood was so bizarre. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Bother me? There are times when I think I'll go mad! But it's my problem, not yours!"

His voice betraying his deep hurt, he accused, "And you never told me about the Master. He drugged you and mind raped you, tried to force a bond on you, and you never said a word. I thought you trusted me."

"I did trust you, and you know exactly why I didn't tell you, because you saw that too."

"I saw your memories, not your thoughts, Em. I don't know why you would hide something like that from me."

Taking a deep breath, she tried to control her emotions. "I was ashamed, Doc. There was Borusa, teaching us about mental strength, telling us that only a Time Lord with a weak mind could ever be overpowered psychically, and what happened? That bastard overwhelmed me and slithered around my head, making feel things against my will. I felt like such a failure."

"He drugged you, Em. You couldn't help what happened. I'm amazed that you were able to think at all, much less figure out a way to escape him."

"But that's just the point, Doc! There are some things I just can't bear to have another person judge me for, even you. Good, bad, you can't tell me anything I haven't told myself a hundred times."

Sitting next to her, he gazed devotedly into her green eyes. "I'm not going to judge you, for anything. How can I after the things I've done?"

For a moment, she was lost in his gaze. It would be so easy to lower her defenses and welcome him with open arms and mind. She was lonely, even if she wasn't alone, and grief was so much easier to bear if it was shared. But she pulled back before it became anything more than a possibility.

"I'd rather you pretend ignorance. I'm sorry. It's just too much right now."

With a wistful smile on his face, he asked, "Does that mean it might not be later?"

His persistence was so endearing that she couldn't help but smile in return. "Well, you did say you weren't leaving, so you should have ample opportunity to wear me down."

"Brilliant!"

Shaking her head in fond exasperation, Melissa walked towards the exit, but he unexpectedly caught her wrist before she could leave. When she turned to ask what he wanted, she was shocked to see the serious look that now clouded his features.

"Em, I assure you that once you leave the TARDIS, I will pretend I never saw your memories, but one thing concerns me greatly. You have an amazing ability in this regeneration, an ability that hasn't been seen since the Dark Times. How you change the perception of Time itself is something I can't even begin to comprehend, but I saw the price you paid. I know better than to ask you not to use it. All I ask is you think about the consequences before you act."

"I will," she promised before walking slowly out the door. His reminder of her debilitating injury in the other timeline troubled her more than she cared to admit.


	50. Memorial Day

Author's Notes - Thanks again to dwatlaskrhtcm for reviewing the previous chapter.

* * *

><p>The next two days were taken up with the logistics of transporting Matthew and Susan's bodies back to Colorado Springs and planning a memorial service. Unfortunately, the twins' fate had become something of a sensation, and the news media in Colorado Springs had used their deaths as a local connection to a national tragedy. The UNIT troops meant to protect the Doctor from the Shadow Proclamation had spent most of their time keeping reporters well away from the house. However, it had been impossible to turn away the mayor's Press Secretary, who showed up to suggest that a public service at the high school would be an appropriate outlet for the community's grief.<p>

Jack had been more than willing to use physical coercion to make the man leave, but Melissa had just shrugged and accepted his suggestion. She couldn't pretend to be religious now, not that they had been all that religious before, and having the memorial service at the high school would allow her children's friends to attend. She wasn't naïve enough to believe that the mayor was doing this out of concern for her or respect for the lives of Susan and Matthew, but it was convenient. And, if he thought it would help him seem more personable in the next election, well, she really didn't care.

Jack raised some issues afterwards that she wished she had known about beforehand, but he also promised that he had taken care of it. Not that she minded being known as a Time Lord, but she didn't want anyone's memories of Susan and Matthew tainted by something that had no bearing on their lives. She had been human while they lived, and human when they died, and nothing else mattered to her at that moment.

The Doctor, for his part, tried to remain as unobtrusive as possible, but it was difficult to watch his bond mate struggle with her grief. The psychic bond was meant for situations just such as this, but she was not ready to be completely vulnerable with him yet. And, the Captain still did not remember, which left him unwilling to open himself up to the profound mental union necessary to take away some of her pain.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack quietly entered Melissa's bedroom the morning of the memorial service wishing that he could change the twins' fate. With a jolt, he glanced down at his Vortex Manipulator. It was still functional—completely functional. Sighing heavily, he abandoned that train of thought before it could become too dangerous. There were certain lines that couldn't be crossed, and, unfortunately, he knew exactly where they were. He would have saved Gray long ago if he hadn't.

However, the desire to speak to Susan and Matthew one last time was almost overwhelming. They had been in D.C. for three days before the Earth had been stolen. He could pop back, find their hotel, and just spend a little time with them. He hadn't had a chance to say goodbye. Angrily, he unstrapped his Vortex Manipulator, throwing it onto Melissa's dresser. The Doctor was right, it was too tempting to go back and apologize. He could wear it later when the urge to risk a paradox wasn't so great.

The abrupt noise woke her. "Five more minutes, Jack." She was grumpy and groggy, but seemed to calm when he slid into bed beside her. For several minutes, he rubbed her back, not saying a word.

"Thanks."

"I made pancakes, and there's maple syrup. You need to eat."

"Soon," she grumbled, closing her eyes.

"Melissa."

"Just a few more minutes, Jack. It's only eight twenty-three and twenty-six seconds. Surely a few more minutes won't matter."

He gave in, and she nestled against him, closing her eyes. Thinking she had fallen back asleep, he was caught off guard by her next comment.

"I'm glad Ianto agreed to attend the services."

She seemed sincere, but he wasn't sure he was ready to go down this road; it had the potential to be fraught with land mines. Curiosity got the better of him, however. "Why didn't you invite Gwen?"

She turned towards him, all traces of sleepiness gone. "This Ianto didn't know the kids any better than Gwen, but he was important to Susan once, although he will never understand how important, and I wanted to honor that. Plus, he's very important to you, Jack, and I think it's time you admit that."

He bristled. He was somewhat uncomfortable talking about the young Welshman, especially right now with her, and her comment had seemed more of a command than a request. "Is this where you remind me of the whole forsaking all others bit, because I've got to tell you, I think that cuts both ways."

Not the least bit offended by his sarcasm, she replied evenly. "You're avoiding the topic, and even though I think I know the answer, I want to hear it from you. Is Ianto someone you have fun with, or is he someone you care about?"

"Can't it be both?" He was more than willing to drop the conversation until after the funeral. Hell, he was more than willing to drop this conversation permanently.

"Is that an admission that you care for him?"

Exasperated, Jack replied, "Fine, damn it, I care for him. Why are you bringing this up now?"

Her expression was serious as she peered again into his deep blue eyes. "We're going to Cardiff day after tomorrow and I want you to know that I'm not going to get in your way with Ianto Jones or anyone else. I love you, Jack. But even my life will be like a mayfly's to yours, and I can't tell you how sorry I am about that. If you find happiness with someone else, how can I be jealous? Especially when I am bonded to the Doctor as well as you."

He hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly hadn't been that. "You're an incredibly generous woman, you know."

She nodded, but he knew that words were not enough. Tentatively, he reached out to her with his mind, finding her in the den of a strangely familiar house.

"Hey, this is the house I bought in 1964. We lived here?

Glumly, she nodded, wiping the scene away as she spoke. "Sometimes I wish I was still there. Parts of it were terrible, but I was happier than I had been in centuries.

They were back in the room with the closed doors, which appeared somewhat decrepit, but definitely solid. Pointedly, he ignored them, wrapping his arms around her. "I do love you, Melissa, whether I get those memories back or not. You're different, but not that different. You're right, though. I love Ianto, too." He gave her a self-conscious grin. "My life's complicated."

Playing with his braces, she smiled at him. "I'm not going to make you choose, Jack. I already told the Doctor that I'm staying in Cardiff until you're ready to leave. He's agreed to stay as well. I guess he means it when he says he's not going to abandon me this time."

Astonished, he picked her up in an enthusiastic hug. "Fantastic!"

A clock alarm began to sound in the background, and her happy grin instantly disappeared.

"You can do this, Sweetheart. I'm just sorry you have to. I miss them too."

Aware of his surroundings once again, he kissed her forehead. "It's getting late and you still need to eat. We'd better get to the kitchen before the Doctor finds the pancakes."

Reluctantly, she followed him out of bed. She did not want to face the day.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Em, are you ready? Jack's gone ahead, and we should really leave if we're not taking the TARDIS."

The Doctor walked into Melissa's bedroom ready to hurry her along. If she wanted to meet the plane as it landed, they had to leave soon. He found her staring at herself distractedly in the mirror above her dresser.

"Em?"

Startled, she turned around, a pained look on her face. "I couldn't wear black; I just couldn't."

She was wearing a conservative navy suit, the skirt hitting just above the knees. She was also wearing a small silver heart around her neck that the twins had given her as a birthday present just this year. Her hair was pulled back, and he had the insane desire to pull out the hairpins so that her auburn waves would soften the drawn features of her face.

"You look fine," he reassured her. "Your clothes are dark enough to suit customs here."

"I know. I guess I'm just stalling."

Finally noticing that he was wearing his blue suit, she gave him a weak smile. "The two of us look like we're going to a funeral on Necros."

"Make that the three of us. Jack flatly refused to wear the black suit that Mr. Jones sent, although it fit him perfectly. He had a rather strong reaction to it, in fact. Kicked it all the way to the wardrobe room." Before she could ask, he added regretfully, "But he couldn't tell me why. He still doesn't remember, Em."

"Doesn't matter," she replied dismissively, and they both knew she was lying. There were so many more things he wanted to say, but she was closed to him, and they didn't have any more time to spare. Giving her hand a brief squeeze, he led her to the car.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack's young man, Ianto, would be accompanying the bodies, the Doctor thought to himself as he watched the Boeing 747 land at the airport in Colorado Springs. The archivist had been more than diligent taking care of the arrangements in Washington, and had insisted on accompanying Susan and Matthew's remains to make sure nothing went wrong in transit.

He wasn't surprised that Melissa had chosen to accept the young man. Jack really was an impossible thing, and it wasn't as if bonded Time Lords had been completely faithful, or expected to be. Sex with others had been condoned, although intimacy usually had not. Thinking briefly of Romana, he regretfully thought that he had failed that lesson as well.

Standing with Melissa at his side, he watched Jack approach the airplane as it parked near the terminal. UNIT, along with a small contingent of US Air Force personnel, formed an honor guard that stretched from the plane to the large black hearse parked a hundred feet away. He could feel the stares of the passengers on the plane and those watching from the terminal, but he knew this scene was being played out all over the world. The Daleks had been thorough when attacking military installations. They must have been wary of Earth's ability to defend itself, especially after being defeated on the planet so many times.

Tightening her grip on his hand was Melissa's only outward display of emotion. She hadn't cried in two days, although he privately wondered if she had any tears left. As soon as they had reached the airport, however, she seemed more stoic, every inch a Time Lord. As the pallbearers passed before her carrying the coffins of her children, she gave Jack a short nod, but her eyes stayed dry. The brief ceremony over, the Doctor led her to the car.

They would follow the hearse directly to the high school for the memorial service. Melissa had declined an invitation to speak, giving her children's friends and teachers the opportunity to say their own farewells. The mayor had asked to speak, as had the governor, which didn't surprise the Doctor in the least.

The press would be there as well, turning Susan and Matthew into symbols of all who were lost during the attack. It was a cynical thought, but of course the governor would want to be associated with such a moving tribute. Jack had sarcastically remarked that it was easier to garner television ratings using the faces of two attractive, bright teenagers than a soldier who had died doing his or her duty, and unfortunately, the Doctor had had to agree.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sitting in the front row of the high school's theater, Melissa struggled to keep her emotions under control. The outpouring of grief and affection for her children was threatening to bring her to tears. She had known they had both been popular, but it was easy to forget how many people they had touched just by living their ordinary human lives.

The band played a moving tribute, even if most of the kids playing had tears streaming down their faces. Matthew's swim coach spoke about her son's athletic ability and team spirit. Susan's art teacher talked about her attention to detail and the unique perspective she brought to her work. Several of their close friends stood to give testimonials to their kindness, compassion and zest for life.

After that, the high school principal presented her with Susan and Matthew's diplomas. Determined not to break down in front of so many people, she accepted them graciously before returning to her seat. She gripped the presentation folders so tightly that she would have crumpled them had Jack not eased them out of her hands.

Then, the Doctor gripped her left hand, and Jack her right as she listened to the governor and then the mayor speak about the tragedy of the Dalek invasion. It was all she could do not to gag at the governor's hypocrisy. There he was, posing for the cameras, promising to make schools safer for students when he had completely ignored the Parflican rampage at the school four years ago.

She tuned out the rest of his words so they wouldn't be what she remembered. She wanted to remember the clay under Susan's fingernails when she came home tired after pottery class. She wanted to remember the glasses that Matthew had worn before she convinced him to try contacts. She wanted to remember the band, and her kids' friends, and the strange memorial of letters, candles, balloons and stuffed animals that had appeared at the front of the school in the last few days. She wanted to remember the volleyball team she had coached, and the sometimes insufferable, often endearing women she had met through the PTA. She wanted to remember all the people who had sent hams and casseroles and Jello to the house when they had heard of Susan and Matthew's death.

She wanted to remember it all, because she would be burying the life she had known for thirty-five years with her children today. Oh, she could try to pretend that she wasn't anything more than human. She could continue to design web pages, and mark the calendar with Christmas and Easter and sad anniversaries of things she would like to change, but it would all be an act. She wasn't human. Her calendar encompassed all of time and space, no matter where she chose to mark it, and that gave her a vastly different perspective.

All at once, people were standing and talking among themselves, and Melissa realized that the memorial service was finished. Hastily rubbing her eyes, she stood next to Jack as she accepted condolences from scores of strangers. The Doctor was lost in the milling crowd, and she wished that he was at her side as well. He had impacted the children's lives as much as anyone had, and she suspected he blamed himself somehow for their deaths.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Finding his way to the edge of the crowd, the Doctor leaned against the stage, wondering how Melissa had been able to politely shake hands with the attending politicians without spitting in their faces. At least the news reporters had been kept at a discreet distance, no doubt thanks to some welcome UNIT intervention. Watching the crowd thin, he was relieved that the disposition of the children's remains would occur later at the peak of Bad Wolf Summit during a very private ceremony. The memorial service had been difficult enough; they did not need an audience of prying strangers when Melissa finally laid Susan and Matthew to rest.

Eventually, there was no one left but the three of them in the theater. Jack stayed behind to wrap up a few things at the school, and the Doctor escorted Melissa out the back to avoid reporters. Driving to the house, the Doctor allowed himself to mourn the two amazing children that his bond mate had borne. He had witnessed their maturing from selfish adolescents to generous adults, and wished that they had trusted him enough in the beginning to give him the watch. Perhaps, they would be alive today.

Glancing at her, he felt the sadness behind her stoic mask, and gave her hand a squeeze. Immediately, he felt a flush of gratitude. Her emotional defenses cracked entirely as they pulled into the driveway, and they stayed in the car for several minutes, each sharing the other's burdens.

Coming back to reality, the Doctor roughly wiped away the tears that had fallen on his cheek. "I'm sorry, Em. After the Master, I was so sure, but I couldn't find the watch. I tore up your room looking for it. If I hadn't been so thick, this never would have happened. I should have looked harder."

"It wasn't your fault, Doc, and if I start hating people who knew about the watch, then I'm going to have to include Susan and Matthew, and I can't do that."

"Does that mean you're going to forgive Martha as well?"

She tensed, thinking of the young physician. "Eventually," she begrudgingly replied. "I can forgive her for being afraid of unleashing another psychopath, but I'll never understand why she didn't have enough faith to let you make that decision."

Turning bitter, she quickly added, "I'd like to lay it all at the feet of the Bad Wolf. I don't understand why she wouldn't permit me to tell you who I was, especially once Rose had been trapped on Pete's World. It makes me think that she's not finished with me yet, and that terrifies me."

"The Daleks are finally dust. Surely she's kept her vow to protect me by now."

I'd like to believe the Daleks are gone, but I'm not sure I have your conviction. They've taken too much from me."

"And me. "There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of her, Em."

"I wonder what she would have thought of Susan and Matthew?"

"She loved humans. She would have been proud to call them family, just as she would have approved of her daughter's match to that young man David. You were a wonderful mother to our daughter, just as you were a wonderful mother to Susan and Matthew and Joy. Don't ever think you weren't."

Reluctantly getting out of the car, she managed a small nod. In the dark recesses of her mind, she doubted that there was anything remotely wonderful about her aptitude as a mother. If she was such a good mother, why were all of her children dead?

Watching Melissa wearily close the car door, the Doctor felt as hopeful as he could on this distressing day. Their mental union had been a significant step forward, although he didn't believe for a second that it could erase hundreds of years of separation. Leading her inside, he left her in the care of Sarah Jane with the understanding that she rest. He and Jack could take care of the final details for the ceremony alone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Standing on Bad Wolf Summit, the breeze ruffling his hair and the sun kissing his cheek, Jack sentimentally thought it should be cloudy, cold and raining. The day was far too agreeable for what they were about to do. He glanced over at the coffins, their polished wood gleaming in the sunshine, and swallowed his tears. Instead he looked over the select group standing nearby.

Ianto was there, quietly talking to Sarah Jane's son Luke. He owed his lover a huge debt of gratitude for taking care of something he wasn't able to do himself. Jack hadn't revealed the true nature of his relationship with Melissa to Ianto, and he doubted the young man understood that in many ways he was burying his own children today. There would have to be an accounting once he was back in Cardiff, but today was not the time, and this was definitely not the place.

The Brigadier stood off to one side, his face sorrowful. It was the beginning of a long line of funerals for the old soldier. So many UNIT personnel had perished during the Dalek crisis that mass memorial services were being planned on a regional level. Still, he didn't think any of them would be quite as difficult for him as this one. It was always heartbreaking to bury children.

That thought sent a cold shiver down his spine, and he distracted himself by watching Sarah Jane quietly explain what was about to happen to her inquisitive son. She impressed upon him that today was not a day for questions, just quiet respect. She and Melissa were close friends, and he knew Sarah Jane despaired that yet another tragedy had robbed her friend of happiness.

He suspected the Doctor's former companion had also brought Luke to teach him that not everyone who gets involved with aliens comes out alive. It was a harsh truth, but one the boy needed to learn. The kid seemed especially interested in UNIT and, to a lesser extent, Torchwood. If he was thinking of joining either organization, he needed to know just how dangerous things could get.

Mickey was also nearby, looking a little uncomfortable standing by himself, but at least he had known Susan and Matthew, albeit briefly. Tommy Frakes was not in attendance; they had finally identified his body at the Pentagon. Martha had not been invited, and Donna did not remember, but her grandfather Wilf was there as her representative, talking earnestly to the Doctor. He seemed to be able to offer comfort to the Doctor when others could not, and Jack was grateful the old man had made the trip. It was all too apparent to him that the Doctor was not doing nearly well as he pretended, and he worried about his friend.

When Melissa walked out of the TARDIS, conversation ceased, and everyone gathered around in a close bunch. Her hair could not completely hide the still healing gash on her left temple, and the paleness of her complexion made her look particularly frail on this too sunny day. Jack stood ready to assist her if anything should go wrong, but he expected that the presence of UNIT troops at the base of the mountain would give interlopers pause.

Standing behind her children's coffins, she solemnly addressed the group. "I want to thank you all for coming today to say a final goodbye to Susan and Matthew. My children never knew a normal life; children of a soldier never do. Every few years they left their school, their friends, their home to make a new home somewhere else, and they never complained, not once, because we believed that home was not a specific geographic location, but the presence of family. When their father died a soldier's death, our family shrank and their life changed, but they were resilient, and even though they mourned Mark, they adjusted and learned and grew."

She paused, glancing at briefly at the coffins, recalling their arrival on Bad Wolf Summit. "Four years ago, their lives changed in a way that is incomprehensible to most. They became refugees, strangers in a strangely familiar land, and they could have easily said no more, sinking into despair and denial, but they did not. Instead, they embraced all that was new, and coped amazingly well. I will always admire them for their strength and optimism."

Her voice caught, and she gave Jack a watery smile. "My son Matthew was saved on this very mountain by a man whom he would later call father, a man who almost died saving him again, a man who loved us enough to walk away when he believed that his very presence might do our family harm. Jack Harkness set an example of courage and integrity that Matthew tried to follow each day of his life."

Blinking back tears, she turned her attention to the Doctor. "And when my son failed to achieve those goals, when he momentarily forgot that it is sometimes more courageous to say no than to do what society expects, the Doctor was there to gently lead him back. Since our arrival in this universe, the Doctor has been a constant for my children, and me, assisting us when we needed him most. He provided a roof over our heads and the wherewithal to live a life that was not quite our own. But more importantly, he gave Susan and Matthew the knowledge that their existence could be far more wonderful than they had ever envisioned. He gave them hope."

Her throat was tightening as she choked back the tears, but she was determined to finish. "Susan was a thoughtful child, and I sometimes wonder if she wasn't overlooked at times because she didn't have the theatrical flair that her brother did. But to know Sue was to love her. She was a talented artist who was finally discovering exactly what she believed in. I shall miss her terribly."

"My son, to borrow a phrase, was brilliant. He was . . . he was. . . ." Voice cracking, she stared at the ground, memories of Matthew's charming smile and sunny disposition threatening to break through her carefully controlled façade.

Jack quickly filled the silence. "He was an outgoing, considerate young man forced too early to make difficult choices. I couldn't have been prouder of him if he had been my own son, and I will never forget the first time he called me Dad. His death coming well before its time is a blow to the human race and all who loved him."

His own voice cracked as he ended his tribute to the boy, but he didn't care. He had loved the mischievous teen, and realized with dismay that he had never said those words directly to him. At that moment, he was very grateful that he had taken off his wrist strap.

The Doctor briefly rested his arm on Jack's shoulder, mourning the loss of two amazing people and all their potential just as deeply as his immortal companion, although he could not bring himself to speak his grief out loud. He was glad that the Captain had been able to do what he could not, however, for Melissa's sake as well as his own.

Giving Jack a grateful nod, Melissa took a deep breath, determined to finish. "Although their lives were cut short, I ask you to recall how they lived and not how they died. Though they are gone, they continue through all who remember them." Returning to the group, she took Jack's hand. Carefully, she aimed the sonic blaster at the coffins and fired. In an instant, the coffins had disappeared, stunning the rest of the mourners.

As everyone offered their sincere condolences, Melissa managed to blink back her tears. Sarah Jane gave her a tight hug as Luke stood awkwardly nearby, not sure what he should do in this particular situation. The Brigadier, who could see better than most how much the twins' deaths had affected the Doctor, gave his old friend a crushing hug, knowing this version of the Doctor would allow it, and needed it more than his previous selves.

Jack was left momentarily alone. Slipping away unnoticed, he intended to return to the TARDIS to find a suitable outlet for his grief. Maybe the old girl would let him punch a wall; surely she would understand. Ianto, however, was standing at the entrance to the ship, his face inscrutable.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He couldn't help the tears sliding down his face. "I didn't get to see Matthew very often, but he looked to me as a father and I was very proud of him."

The young Welshman's tone was flat and slightly mocking as only he could do. "Not that, Jack. You failed to mention that you are currently married. I had to hear that from our newest recruit, Mickey Smith. Does your wife accept all your affairs as easily as ours?"

Jack stared at Ianto in shock, momentarily at a loss for words before anger replaced his surprise. Damn Mickey anyway; he should have kept his mouth shut.

"It's complicated," he ground out, desperately hoping the conversation could be postponed until they were back in Cardiff.

Ianto was not ready to give an inch. "Most of your life's complicated, Jack. I know that only too well. After you came back, however, I remember you promising no more secrets. . . sir."

"Damn it, Yan, do not make me have this conversation with you right now!" Glancing around, he could see Luke, Wilf and Mickey walking slowly towards the TARDIS. Angrily, he opened the door and pulled Ianto inside, hoping the ship would accommodate him enough to give them someplace private to talk.

Finding an empty room several floors down, he slammed the door shut in aggravation. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

Taken aback by Jack's ire, Ianto was much too wounded to drop the subject. "I thought you cared about me, Jack. I thought—"

"I do care about you. I care about a lot of people." With a start, he realized he was beginning to sound like the Doctor. Gripping Ianto's arms, he crashed his mouth into his lover's until the young man began to reciprocate.

"I care about you more than you'll ever realize, Ianto." Breathing heavily, his anger gave way to arousal as he tried to reassure himself as much as the man in his embrace.

Ianto was not unaffected, although he was able to muster more restraint. "Then tell me. I want to know about her."

Was it his story to tell? Pacing, the Captain decided he owed an explanation. It would be up to Ianto to accept or reject it.

"I found Melissa and Susan and Matthew on this mountain when I was travelling with the Doctor. I was a time traveler, but their situation was unique, even by my standards. Hell, the situation was unique by the Doctor's standards. She was so lost and alone, except for those kids of hers, but she did what she had to do to give them a safe, loving home, and I admired her for that."

He looked soulfully at Ianto, hoping he would understand the next part, but the tight lipped man gave no indication whatsoever of his emotions. "We stayed several weeks, and by the end of it, she and I were lovers. It was the first time I admitted to myself that I cared about someone beyond the sex. After the massacre on my home world, I hadn't let myself get close to anyone like that, but she was different."

He paused, remembering what that realization had done to him so very long ago. Losing himself in memories, he leaned against the wall, looking up toward the ceiling.

"We left and I thought that would be the end of it, until Susan called Rose and told us that she was dying. It had only been a few days for me. I hadn't had time to miss her that much, but the thought of not seeing her again tore me up inside. I stayed for a couple of months, finally getting up the courage to ask her to marry me after I had my own brush with death."

Taking a deep breath, he again leveled his gaze at the Welshman. "And this is where it gets complicated. We married, went to Paris on our honeymoon, and then it all fell apart. Three days later I was back in the TARDIS travelling with the Doctor and Rose because we all thought the Time Agency had come calling for me. I couldn't put my family in that kind of danger; it was better I stay away."

Ianto remained silent as Jack's face twisted into a grin of bitter irony. "It was Owen, you know. I crossed my own timeline to save them, and I ended up causing my leaving in the first place. I all but ensured that the Doctor would abandon me, but I didn't realize that for over a hundred years."

"I don't understand," he admitted quietly.

The Captain took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "Like I said, it's complicated." He gave the Torchwood agent a self-deprecating grin.

"What I'm trying to say is that even though I married Melissa in 2005, it was before I ever ended up at Torchwood. She was my wife, but I couldn't even think about getting back to her for over a century when I got stranded on Earth. So I lived and died and fell in love and watched so many people I cared about die, and thought of Melissa and Susan and Matthew often, but I never expected to see them again."

"Why not?"

Suddenly, he looked stricken. "Because after all those years, I was a different man. I have done some terrible things in my life, Ianto, and I didn't want the one person who had shown me what love can be to know what I'd become. I didn't deserve her anymore."

Ianto approached, his face inches away from the Captain's. "Is that why she left Cardiff?"

His heartache suddenly overwhelming, he briefly grieved for what might have been, momentarily seeing the empty house in Barry full of life. Then, he straightened, taking a deep, calming breath.

"No, I had to send her away because that bastard almost killed her and would have finished the job." His anger at the Master rising to new levels, he punched the wall, bloodying his hand. The lights briefly flickered in protest.

"Who almost killed her, Jack?" The Welshman was trying to keep up, but it was getting more difficult with each sentence. The Captain had been correct; his life was extremely complicated, and he wasn't sure of his place in it anymore.

"The Master."

Astounded, the archivist's brow furrowed. "Because she's a Time Lord?"

"No, I don't think he knew. Nobody knew until after. Matthew had the watch and didn't know how important it was, and Susan was too frightened. It wasn't until Martha told me about it that we had any clue."

Growing impatient the longer he attempted to explain, Jack fervently issued his plea. "I don't say it often enough to her, Ianto, but I love her. I've come to realize that she's still my wife, Time Lord or human. But as she made me admit this morning, I care about you, too. She's going to die, just like you will one day, and I'll live on. Don't make me choose, Yan. She's okay with it; I'm okay with it. Now, you just have to decide if you're okay with it. I know I kept my relationship with her secret, but everything I did was to protect my family, and I don't regret that for a minute."

Not giving the Welshman time to respond, Jack stalked out, heading to the infirmary to wash the blood off his fist. He needed some time alone, and Ianto definitely needed some time to think.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The TARDIS had been very careful to give everyone a smooth ride to Melissa's house, but Jack could tell as he always could when they dropped out of the Vortex. He didn't really want to have to face anyone yet, so he took his time washing his hand and pulling open drawers in his search for plasters. He had opened twenty drawers without finding what he wanted, but it had wasted a good forty-five minutes as he peered at all the medical junk the Doctor had acquired over the years.

Finally, he decided not to bandage his hand. His knuckles weren't broken, just swollen, and the plasters would only call attention to his self-inflicted injury. Taking the Triplexian wound cream out of it drawer, he liberally slathered the ointment on his fingers, relaxing somewhat as it took the pain away.

He was walking toward the console room when he felt that something was distinctly wrong. Racing out of the TARDIS, he sped up the hill, startling everyone with his frantic pounding on the front door. Sarah Jane let him inside, but he didn't even acknowledge her presence. Still running, he crossed the kitchen, speeding through the hallway to find the Doctor sprawled unconscious on the floor in Melissa's bedroom.

"Sorry, I guess I panicked. He'll be fine." But her face was drawn with worry, and Jack suspected she was saying that for his own benefit.

"What happened?"

"I told you he was still healing. He's suffering from exhaustion. He hasn't been sleeping, and I've been too wrapped up in my own problems to notice. He's as good at hiding things as I am."

Carefully, Jack picked up the Doctor, placing him on the bed. Together, they undressed him and covered him with a blanket. He had pushed himself past his limits, and both of them knew that sleep was the best thing for him now.

Flopping into the chair, Melissa rested her head in her hands. She was torn between staying beside the Doctor to assure herself that he was going to be okay, and tending to the friends and acquaintances who had just become overnight houseguests. She was much too tired to pilot the TARDIS by herself.

Jack took the decision out of her hands. "Sweetheart, you're just as exhausted as he is. Get some rest. I'll take care of everything."

She didn't argue.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A good night's rest was all the Time Lords apparently needed. Both appeared much better in the morning, although Jack would not let them do much of anything besides eat a hearty breakfast. Eventually, he annoyed them so much that they threatened to leave him in Colorado when they took everyone home.

He didn't take it seriously, smiling for the first time that day. If they were well enough to be cranky, they were probably fine. After dropping off Sarah Jane and Luke in Ealing, and Wilf in Chiswick, they landed on the rift in Cardiff. The TARDIS hummed happily as she soaked up the excess energy of the rift.

They dropped off Mickey and Ianto before returning to the Vortex. The three of them would go back to Torchwood tomorrow, but thought it best to have a little more time to process their grief privately. Each spent the day mostly alone, although Jack found Melissa curled up with a photo album in the media room that evening. Together, they looked at pictures Matthew had taken of all of them at various points over the years. Once again Jack was amazed at how quickly the kids had matured, sorrow washing over him anew. It made him wonder how the Doctor was faring. Neither had seen him at all that day.

Worried, they found the Doctor sitting on the jump seat in the control room, his sonic screwdriver in his hand. It was apparent that he had been crying, but he refused to talk about what was bothering him, although they had their suspicions, especially when they saw the picture of Donna on the viewing screen. His face was unusually pale, his freckles suddenly prominent on his nose and there were dark circles underneath his eyes once again.

"I'm sorry about Donna." Melissa took his hand as she sat next to him on the jump seat.

"At least she's alive," he answered, and then added bitterly, "and not a weapon I created."

Immediately understanding his reference, Jack argued, "You didn't turn Martha into a weapon, Doc. If anyone did, it's the Master."

"She was going to use the Osterhagen Key, Captain. Who do you think taught her that type of warfare? Certainly not the Master."

Jumping up, he began to pace, his manner tense. "Everyone I know would be better off if they hadn't met me. Rose would be happily working in a shop having a normal life instead of fighting on Torchwood's behalf in some parallel universe. Martha would be a new obstetrician, bringing life into this world instead of killing aliens. Donna, well, just look at what happened to Donna. And you, Captain! You'd be normal. And Susan and Matthew wouldn't be dead!"

As Jack looked at his friend mutely in disbelief, Melissa sprang from the seat to poke her finger at the Time Lord's chest. "Enough! I know how much going up against Davros and then having to take away Donna's memories hurt you, but I won't let you wallow in self pity."

Wrapping him in a hug, she added more quietly. "You are the Doctor. You make people better; you know that. Rose is so much more than the shop girl she would have been, and you saved Donna's life, even if she can't remember it."

Joining the two in their embrace, Jack added resolutely, "I'd be a conman if not for you, Doc. I wouldn't want to go back to who I was for anything. And as for normal, well, who wants normal if being immortal means I can be with Melissa and you?"

"I don't-"

"Don't you dare say you don't deserve it," she demanded softly. "We're only telling you the truth. Even Martha is better off having known you. She's a more courageous, independent woman because of you. If she's a soldier, it's because she chose to be one, not because you made her into one."

"I don't know what to say," he admitted, looking at the two of them in shocked wonder.

"You don't have to say anything. Just let us help you for a change." She managed to bully him into agreeing to go to bed, and she and Jack followed right behind him as he entered his bedroom. Neither trusted him to actually sleep.

Jack tried not to stare at the furnishings, never actually having seen the Doctor's room before that evening. Melissa, however, looked about in relief, thinking that his room looked much more vibrant than it had in that horrible alternate. Involuntarily, she shuddered.

They didn't bother with changing. The Doctor hugged one side of the bed until Melissa made him push to the middle so she and Jack could lie on each side. He protested a bit, but gave in too quickly for someone who claimed to be disgruntled. Once he had finished making a fuss, he was asleep in minutes, and so were they.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Waking up in the dark to her internal clock, Melissa sensed rather than saw the Doctor sleeping curled against Jack. She had managed six dream free hours of rest, but it looked like they both needed more. Carefully, she inched out of the bed so she wouldn't wake them. Slipping out the door to go to the wardrobe room, she found the clothes she knew she would feel most comfortable wearing and carried them with her down the hall to take a shower.

After she dressed, she found the kitchen and made banana muffins with cream cheese icing. It reminded her of Susan and Matthew, but the memories were happy ones and she smiled as she worked. When the muffins were cool and iced, she briefly considered taking the TARDIS to Cardiff herself, but she wasn't ready to confront everyone at Torchwood just yet.

Jack was the first to find her. After kissing her good morning, he regarded her new outfit of black pants, black boots and green blouse with a plunging neckline thoughtfully. "I don't know if that looks incredibly sexy in a dangerous sort of way, or incredibly dangerous in a sexy sort of way. Anyway, you look hot."

"Down, tiger. Wait until you see the leather coat." She handed him a muffin on a plate.

He flashed a wicked smile. "Can't wait, I've always been into leather."

"Why do you think I never let you buy me that drink, Captain?" the Doctor asked with his own wicked grin as he, too, gave Melissa the once over. "Not bad. A little on the stark side, but considering what I wore in my last regeneration, I can't really judge."

Jack glanced at the Doctor; he was wearing his brown suit today as opposed to the blue one he had worn to the funeral. More importantly, he looked well rested. There was color in his cheeks and a genuine smile on his face.

Handing him a muffin, he teased, "I'm into suits as well, Doc. The offer of a drink still stands."

Taken by surprise, the Time Lord snorted icing up his nose and sneezed loudly, causing Melissa to laugh. It was good to hear that sound come out of her mouth.

"Oi! You try to eat while Jack engages in his unique brand of sexual harassment."

Knowing just how to tease him, she retorted. "It's only sexual harassment if the advances are unwanted. I saw how you were snuggling up with him in your sleep this morning."

"I can't help it if he's warm and comfortable," he answered without thinking. When he realized what he had said, his face flushed crimson and he began to babble. "I mean, as a human, Jack's got a higher body temperature than a Time Lord. It's only natural that I would be attracted, I mean, my body be attracted-Blast it, Emma! I was asleep!"

The Captain guffawed; he hadn't seen the Doctor this wound up since Rose had suggested they go skinny dipping underneath that waterfall on Tyranda. But Melissa shot him a sly smile and he quickly shut up.

"I don't mind you snuggling with Jack. It made me very warm." In a flash, Jack could feel his own body flood with heat and noticed that the Doctor gave every indication that his had as well. Her playful teasing had turned into something else entirely, and he wondered if it had been deliberate on her part.

Considering the effect on her, he doubted it had been on purpose. She was standing absolutely motionless, he mouth slightly open, her eyes wide. As the Doctor cautiously approached her, Jack started to worry, and suddenly she jumped as if she were a marionette on a string.

"Doctor?"

Sitting her in a chair, he lightly remarked, "It's not a good idea to get Jack and me all hot and bothered while you're mind's still scrambled. With your defenses weakened, there's no telling how you'll react." Handing her a glass of water he asked, "How are you feeling?"

"You were hot and bothered?" she asked quizzically, still feeling somewhat dopey and disoriented.

"Very," he agreed while quietly taking the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. "Jack, too, although with the Captain, you have to wonder if it's a permanent condition."

"Hey!"

The whine of the sonic screwdriver was annoying enough to snap Melissa back to complete awareness, and she grabbed the device out of the Doctor's hand. "That's rude, you know." Noticing the water in her other hand for the first time, she gulped it down in a few sips. "What just happened?"

"You're a big tease, that's what just happened." Jack answered with a grin.

"Stop it," the Doctor ordered before answering Melissa's question. "When Jack and I became aroused at the same time, our responses overwhelmed you because your mental shields are still very weak. It shouldn't do that to you once you heal completely." With a smirk, he added casually, "So no threesomes for a while longer."

She nodded, ignoring his joke, immensely relieved to know her reaction hadn't been some strange consequence of the double bond.

Jack stared at them both, but decided to keep his mouth shut. Had the Doctor just suggested what he thought he suggested? Of course, the Time Lord had mentioned sharing the one time he had tried to explain the double bond, but Jack had gotten the impression that he meant taking turns, not participating at the same time. With a grin, he realized that his life had suddenly become even more complicated.


	51. Second Chances

Author's Notes - Thanks to padmay97 and dwatlaskrhtcm for their reviews of the last chapter. There's a little more action in this chapter as the Doctor, Jack and Melissa return to Cardiff and the new Torchwood team.

* * *

><p>It was sprinkling in Cardiff when the TARDIS arrived, and Melissa, Jack and the Doctor hurried to the tourist entrance, hoping the deluge would hold off for a few minutes. They'd decided to jump to noon since they were hungry and had eaten something resembling breakfast a few hours before.<p>

Gwen was waiting impatiently as Jack opened the door. Immediately, she threw her arms around him giving him an enthusiastic hug. "We've missed you, Jack! You wouldn't believe how much Ianto's been moping around."

Not sure if that was a pointed reminder that he'd been neglecting the Welshman, Jack smiled and quickly introduced the Doctor. "Gwen, I'd like you to meet the Doctor. I know you saw him on the subwave a week ago, but that's not the same as meeting face to face."

"It's very nice to meet you." She addressed the Doctor sincerely before glancing curiously at Melissa, who was standing slightly behind both men.

Between Martha's continued mistrust and Ianto's moving description of the eulogy she'd given for her children, Gwen wasn't really sure what to expect from the woman who was glancing distractedly around the Hub. Plus, Mickey had informed them that she was in actuality Jack's wife, and that was simply too bizarre to comprehend.

"I was so sorry to hear of your loss, Ms. Morgan.

"Thank you."

There were so many memories of the Hub, many of them conflicting, that it took her a moment to process all of them. As Gwen briefed Jack on recent Rift activity and the Doctor inserted himself into their conversation, Melissa slipped away to wander casually around the base. As she left, the Doctor shared a long look with the Captain, and then went in search of Martha.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Martha Jones."

Her gloved hands covered in viscous alien intestines, Martha reluctantly looked up from the autopsy she was performing. Flushing at the timber of compassion and disappointment she heard in his voice, she slowly took off her gloves.

"I suppose this is where you tell me no second chances?"

Giving her a poignant smile, he replied, "Oh, I believe in multiple chances now. Harriet Jones taught me the value of that."

Feeling cornered, she lashed out. "She gave her life to teach you that."

"Yes she did," he agreed sadly.

When he made no attempt to defend himself, she deflated. "I guess this is about Melissa." Putting her hand up, she argued, "Now, I know I shouldn't have pretended to believe her, but you were dying, and I didn't know what else to do. I am sorry she was injured."

Giving her a half-shrug, he took a few steps closer before commenting almost dismissively. "Emma is the most stubborn woman I have ever known. You couldn't have stopped her."

Bemused, his former companion opened her mouth to question him, but closed it abruptly when he put his hands on her shoulder. The intensity of his gaze froze her like a mouse in the grip of a hawk.

"Martha Jones. You walked the Earth for me. You faced the Master. You had the strength to leave me for your own good. You are one of the bravest humans I know. But, when you found another watch, you kept that knowledge to yourself. Oh, Martha, what did I do to make you so afraid?"

Sobbing, she let him put his arms around her in a gesture of comfort. After a good cry, she felt well enough to talk.

"I wake up almost every night screaming, Doctor. I dream of all the unspeakable things that happened in that year. It was like I didn't walk the Earth; I walked in hell. I saw the Toclafane kill anyone unable to work in the most gruesome ways, and it didn't matter to them if they were old, sick or even children. And then I saw the brutality that human beings inflict upon each other. People being killed over scraps of food, women being raped because no one had the courage to stop their attackers. Doctor, I saw it all."

"And then," she continued in a rush, "I found the watch. I know how lonely you are, how much you miss your people. And, I'm sorry, but I was afraid it wouldn't matter to you if she was worse than the Master. I was afraid you'd destroy yourself trying to fix her, too."

When Martha finally stopped talking, it felt like a weight had lifted from her chest. She'd been the one to take care of her family after the Valiant. She'd been the one who had to be strong. So, she'd repressed her fears as best she could and pretended like the Year hadn't happened. But it had, and it was liberating to finally admit how much it had affected her.

Remorse and guilt lined the Doctor's features, and he suddenly looked tired and worn out. "I'm so sorry, Martha. I did some terrible things while we were together, and I never even stuck around long enough to see how you were coping. That's an old fault of mine. I am very good at running away, but I've vowed to change that, and I hope one day you can forgive me."

His expression was so sincere and forlorn that she forgave him on the spot. "Come here, you. I think we both could both use a hug right now." As they hugged, she spoke earnestly, feeling for the first time since the Valiant that she had achieved some sort of catharsis. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I know how much you care, about everyone. I've just been really upset about a lot of things."

Letting her go, he gave her an encouraging smile. "Martha Jones, you really are brilliant, you know. And it's quite alright to ask for some help every now and then. I hear you've elected to join Jack's team here in Cardiff. If you ever want to talk, I'll be around."

"Not sure Jack still wants me," she admitted ruefully.

"Yes, I heard you bore the brunt of the Captain's temper. He's calmed considerably since then, you know."

"Are they really married?"

"Yep," he answered simply, having no intention of explaining the complicated relationship the three of them shared.

Seeing the troubled look on her face, he became concerned. "What's wrong, Martha?"

Self-consciously, she admitted, "It's just during that year, she told me someone she loved was being tortured on the Valiant, and I never made the connection. I let her die then, and she almost died a week ago because I never even considered she was putting herself in danger. How's Jack going to forgive me for that?"

"You told him about the watch when you could have stayed silent. He hasn't forgotten that."

"I hope you're right."

Giving the Doctor another hug, she excused herself to finish the autopsy, although she agreed to meet them upstairs for lunch as soon as she was finished.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Wandering around the Hub, Melissa avoided the autopsy bay. She didn't think she was ready to speak to Martha, and she didn't want to be reminded of Owen's absence. For a while, she walked through the cells, but the presence of so many Weevils only depressed her. Walking deep into the tunnels, she found Joy's nursery, only here it was a room filled with old moldy boxes of rotting paper. The stench and painful memories were enough to make her retreat to the archives. For a moment she was confused; her old desk was exactly where it should be. Then, she noticed Mickey Smith sitting behind it, a pile of artifacts in front of him.

He seemed as startled as she was, nervously standing as soon as he caught sight of her. "Sorry, meant to go upstairs and say hello, but I got distracted by a couple of things." Self-consciously, he added, "How you doing today, then?"

Mickey had become much more accustomed to death and grieving while working for the Torchwood in Pete's World than he had ever expected or wished to be, but he couldn't imagine how difficult it must be to lose your children. And Melissa made him nervous. He wasn't leery of her like Martha, but she was a Time Lord, and he was rather in awe of her.

"It's good to have something do to," she replied, answering his question only tangentially. "I thought Jack said you were the new computer expert?"

"I am," he answered more confidently, gratified that Captain Flash had called him an expert in anything. "But Toshiko Sato set up the system so that it almost runs itself. I've been doing a little tweaking in the last week, but the computer systems are in remarkable shape considering how long this Torchwood's been without a technician. I also worked field ops for five years, and I've been able to identify a few mystery items in the archives."

"Ianto's going to appreciate that," she remarked conversationally. "He hates to label anything as unknown." Glancing around, she mentioned, "Where is Mr. Jones, by the way? I didn't see him upstairs."

"He's in a meeting at UNIT headquarters today. They're coming up with a schedule to dig up and destroy those nukes that are part of the Osterhagen Key."

Her eyes narrowed in anger, and Mickey was forcibly reminded just why Time Lords made him nervous. He was very glad that anger wasn't aimed at him.

"What gave UNIT the right to make that decision for the entire planet?"

"They won't now, will they? The Doctor's ordered them to dismantle it, and for once they're listening to him the first time."

She smiled at Mickey's loyalty; he had certainly matured since their first meeting. Changing the subject, she asked, "We arrived at noon. Has anyone had lunch yet?"

"No. You think the boss will spring for something besides pizza?" Putting the detonator away that he had been studying, Mickey walked congenially with her upstairs.

Her stomach churned as she reached the main level of the Hub and saw who was standing across from Jack and the Doctor. She almost turned around to slink to the archives, but Mickey saw her hesitation and whispered encouragingly.

"Might as well get this over with. Whatever you may think, she's a good doctor and Torchwood needs her."

Steeling herself, she gave him a tight nod, and slowly walked to the trio, her manner as cool as she could make it.

"Melissa." Martha greeted her awkwardly as the Time Lord came to stand possessively between the two men.

"Martha," she acknowledged reluctantly. Then, turning her attention to Jack, she tried her best to ignore Torchwood's new medic. "I thought I could work in the archives for a few hours. There are some artifacts down there that should be locked in your safe."

"Sure," Jack replied easily. "Why don't you start after lunch? I thought all of us could go out. The Rift monitor will alert us if anything needs our attention."

"I'm not hungry," she answered flatly. Without giving anyone time to argue, she turned her heel and marched resolutely back the way she came.

"Well," the Doctor commented to the air, "that could have gone better."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Clearing a spot on the untidy desk, the Doctor placed a Styrofoam container of fish and chips and a large Coke in front of Melissa. "It's ten o'clock. Most everyone's gone home. You've been sulking in here long enough; you need to eat something."

She tried arguing with him. "Do you know how dangerous some of this stuff is? They had a Sontaran hyperbaric grenade labeled as unknown and thrown into a drawer. Jack's lucky it hasn't taken out the entire Hub."

Looking around at the Rift detritus spread across her desk, he was almost distracted, but managed to stay focused. "Nice try, but you're taking a break. I'll help you finish up after you eat." Then, dangling the carrot, he added, "Plus, if you clean your plate, I'll give you the slice of chocolate cheesecake Jack picked up for you."

She tried to stare daggers at him, but he had such a cheery grin on his face and his eyes were schooled into such a puppy dog expression that she couldn't even pretend to be annoyed for very long. And she was hungry. Foregoing lunch and dinner had not been the smartest thing she'd done recently.

Picking up the plastic fork, she started to break apart the large piece of fish, eating silently until the white container was almost empty. "I wasn't sulking."

"No?"

"I know Torchwood needs a doctor, and I know Martha is the best choice because of her experience, but I just can't face her yet." Violently, she stabbed a hole into the Styrofoam with the fork.

Coming around the desk, the Doctor carefully took the fork out of her hand. "You're going to need that for dessert," he told her calmly before trying to make her see reason.

"Martha made a mistake by not telling me about the watch, but we'll never know if opening it earlier would have made a difference for Susan and Matthew. They could have died during the Dalek invasion anyway, or they could have died in some other manner. And I know you want to blame Martha, but it's really me you should hold responsible. I did some pretty frightening things when she and I travelled together, and then the Master kidnapped her family, blew up her flat and tried his hardest to have her killed during that year she walked the Earth for me. You can't blame her for being scared of releasing another Time Lord."

Martha momentarily forgotten, her eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't you dare compare yourself with that bastard! Not ever again! You and he are nowhere near the same! And I don't care what you say, I'm glad that he's dead!"

Gingerly, he crouched beside her, their faces inches apart. "I won't. I'm sorry. If I had known what he'd done, I would have never forgiven him; I promise. Just give Martha a chance."

"Fine."

Abruptly, her emotions flip-flopped. She was gazing deeply into his eyes, so warm and familiar even if they were brown this time. And he was so handsome this go round, how could she have not noticed that? His suit hugged his rear and that tie begged to be taken off. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair and try to tame its unruliness.

Unconsciously, she had raised her hand to do just that, and she could feel his entire body tense as she touched him. Bringing her mouth to his, she perceived some moments later that they were both kneeling on the floor. Slowly, she unbuttoned his suit jacket, and her hands explored his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt. They had been apart so long, and her body ached for his touch.

But he wasn't making any explorations of his own. In fact, he had pulled away, putting several feet between them. She could feel his desire, smell the tangy scent of his pheromones flooding the room, and confused, she tried to draw him back to her.

"It's not real, Emma." His voice was ragged, husky, as if he barely had control of himself, and it made her want him that much more.

"You want me."

"Definitely." Then, taking a deep breath, he managed to regain control of himself. "But not like this. Jack's with Ianto. He returned from London a few minutes before I came down here. You're experiencing the backwash."

"Oh."

Embarrassment inflamed her cheeks as she realized that he was correct. Now that she knew what was happening, she could sense Jack's excitement and grasped what it was doing to her. Her body still uncomfortably aroused, she wanted nothing more than to get away from the Doctor, who was looking at her with too much compassion in his eyes.

Sensing her mortification, he quickly tried to reassure her. "It won't happen every time. The farther away you are, the less impact it will have, and you still don't have the mental defenses you should."

"Of course," she agreed briskly, not wanting to give any hint of how disappointed she was. Standing up, she looked at him awkwardly. "I think I need a walk. You mind finishing up here?"

"Not at all." He could still feel her arousal and her shame, and on another level, disappointment. Hoping that she did not realize how clearly she was broadcasting to him, he gave her a friendly smile as she practically ran up the stairs.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Melissa walked the streets of Cardiff the rest of the night and most of the morning. Careful to avoid the areas frequented by Weevils, she wandered far and wide, passing both the house she had lived in with Jack, Susan and Matthew for not quite a year, and the house Jack had purchased the day she had confronted the Master.

It hadn't taken her that long to get over her embarrassment. She was bonded to the Doctor as much as she was to Jack, and experiencing the sexual nature of that bond was only natural. And, she wasn't disappointed in the least that for all their teasing, neither one of them had made overtures to her in that direction. She had gone through too much lately to be remotely interested in something as trivial as sex.

No, that wasn't why she was doing a walkabout, she lied to herself. She was thinking and working on her mental defenses while getting some much needed exercise. Plus, she didn't feel as if she belonged in Cardiff. Jack didn't remember their time together, and she had all but shoved him in Ianto's direction. She had no home to retreat to in this reality, and while she knew she could stay in the TARDIS, she couldn't bring herself to think of the ship as more than temporary lodging. For all its size, the TARDIS could feel remarkably claustrophobic to her at times. Besides, what was she supposed to do? Crawl in bed with the Doctor? Start decorating her room? Maybe she should get a flat, but, frankly, the thought of living alone depressed her.

Walking aimlessly, she morosely watched all the people running about doing the day to day things that made up their ordinary, day to day lives. Finally, she gave herself a good mental kick in the rear. It didn't do her any good to wallow in self pity. She had people who cared about her, and the chance to make a new life for herself, even if she wished she didn't have to. Pushing aside those thoughts, she walked quickly in the direction of the Hub. It wouldn't do for the Doctor or Jack to think she was sulking.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

However, returning to the Hub, she found it almost empty. Mickey was the only one there. "They"ve gone to see what came through the Rift," he told her, anticipating her question.

"Where?"

"Three different locations. Jack and Ianto are on Queen Street; Gwen and Martha are at the National Assembly; and the Doctor was going to the stadium."

"Was going?"

"Yeah," Mickey admitted, somewhat self-consciously. "He refused to wear an earpiece. Not that I disagree. Had enough of that fighting Cybermen, but I can't communicate with him without it. Gwen just sent in a picture of the object they found. Was hoping he'd recognize it."

"Let me see."

As she studied the picture, a tense knot formed in her stomach. Grabbing the comms, she contacted Gwen.

"Gwen, this egg shaped object you and Martha found, how big is it?"

"The size of a backpack."

"Does it look like it might be made of thick glass, and does the purple stuff move around some?"

"Yeah, although it's turning more blue than purple now."

"Okay," she said much too calmly. "That thing's a bomb, well, not actually a bomb, but when it cracks it's going to explode spectacularly. Don't touch it, just evacuate the building. Make sure everyone's well away. I'm not sure if it can bring the building down, but it's best to be on the safe side. Contact Mickey when the building's clear."

"The Assembly's in session," Gwen remarked as she motioned for Martha to back away from the large glass object.

"Tell them it's a terrorist device. That should get them moving."

Without waiting for a reply, she contacted Jack.

"Jack, have you and Ianto found anything yet?"

"No, we were just about to go into the shopping centre. Why?"

"You're looking for a stranch egg. Gwen and Martha found one at the National Assembly, and it's already turning blue."

"Shit. What's the humidity level today?"

"Too high," she answered curtly. "But if it was outside, I think it would have hatched by now."

"Okay," he answered, as he and Ianto strode into the shopping centre. "We've checked everywhere else. Ianto will start the evacuation while I look for the egg. Do you think the stranch can survive?"

"I hope not, although with its exoskeleton anything is possible. Look, Jack, I've got to warn the Doctor."

But even as she said it, she and Mickey felt a rumbling that shook the Hub.

"That came from the stadium!" Jack was torn between finding the second egg and rushing to see if the Doctor was injured.

Hearing indecision in his voice, Melissa calmly reassured him. "He's fine, Jack. We need to focus on containing the two other eggs. The blasts are bigger than I anticipated. The acidity in the atmosphere must be higher than normal."

Mickey suddenly cut in. "What about the explosive containment boxes in the archives? They should be big enough."

"And, they're airtight! Mickey, you're a genius!" Jack was effusive in his praise over the comms, and then suddenly, he was standing in front of them.

"What are you waiting for? Go get the containment boxes!"

Running downstairs, Melissa and Mickey picked up the boxes, depositing them at Jack's feet. Picking them up, he was gone with a flash. Melissa started pacing, suddenly edgy, and then she raced to the secure armory. Finding what she needed, she ran back to Mickey's computer station.

"I need your keys."

"What?"

"Your car keys, Mickey! I need them. Something's wrong at the stadium."

"Hadn't been back long enough to buy a car."

Frustrated, she searched Gwen's desk, but her keys were missing. Desperate, she ran into Jack's office, going through his desk until she found his set of keys. Hoping he drove the same car as she remembered, she raced into the parking garage. The Jag was just where it should be. Spinning the tires, she sped towards the stadium.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Doctor picked his way through the rubble, brushing dust off his coat, sincerely thankful that the stadium had been empty when the bomb had gone off. He wondered if it had been sent through the Rift accidently or by design as he tried to find remnants of the device. Reaching the epicenter of the explosion, he looked down, and immediately took several steps back. Not a bomb, then.

The stranch looked to be momentarily stunned, or no doubt it would have attacked already. The long tail of the scorpion-like creature was already starting to move, and the Doctor knew he didn't have time to find a piece of concrete big enough to smash it to pieces. Warily, he turned to run.

Stuck in traffic, Melissa impatiently listened to the team's chatter. Jack had disposed of the egg at the National Assembly by containing it and then teleporting the container to a very remote region of Snowdonia National Park. When it exploded, the container held, and he popped back to the Hub to place the entire thing into a cell, just in case. A minute later Ianto called in that he had found the third egg inside the Capitol Shopping Centre. He reported that it was dark blue, and she realized with a sick lurch that it was seconds from hatching, or in this case, exploding. Jack must have understood that as well because as soon as Ianto made his statement, the Captain teleported in, snatched up the egg without bothering to box it up, and then disappeared.

She felt the impact of his death less than a minute later. Shaking in the car, she fought back the bile that threatened to erupt from her stomach. She really hated it when he did that. When it happened again four minutes and sixteen seconds later, she had trouble controlling her anxiety. The stranch must have survived.

She was forced to abandon the car several blocks away from the stadium. The explosion had created a traffic nightmare as people fled the area and emergency services vehicles tried to reach the disaster. Running flat out, she saw that the portion of the stadium closest to the river had collapsed entirely.

He's fine, she told herself firmly as she brazenly pushed past the first responders by invoking Torchwood's name. Jack perished once again as she was entering the stadium, and this time she couldn't hold back her reaction. She retched violently before forcing herself to calm. Then, she picked her way carefully through the debris in search of the Doctor.

She was a hundred feet away when she saw him go down. He had been standing on a huge mound of concrete rubble, aiming his sonic screwdriver down at the stranch, when the pile unexpectedly began to shift. Thrown onto his back, he slid clumsily down the heap, no doubt accumulating some magnificent bruises as he rolled away from the mass of tumbling fragments.

Regrettably, his path took him very close to the creature, which used the chaos as an opportunity to attack. Shooting venom out of its tail, the stranch hit the Doctor on his right side. Even as Melissa ran towards him, she could see the blue liquid burn through the Doctor's clothes to sear his skin and sink into muscle and bone.

"Doc, roll left!"

Obeying instinctively, the Doctor did just that. The stranch's tail missed him by inches, and the alien readied itself for another spray. Melissa fired her weapon, but the intense pain of the Doctor's wounds distracted her enough that she missed. The weapon's discharge made the alien wary, however, and as it retreated, she dragged the Doctor out of the way, silently apologizing for aggravating his injuries.

"You okay?" Hidden behind another pile of rubble, she slowed her respirations as she looked at him worriedly.

"I'm fine." He was lying on his left side, his face pinched in agony, but the assurance had automatically popped out of his mouth.

"Liar."

"Why bother asking, then?"

She ignored his question as she examined his right side. A three inch piece of jagged collarbone was visible through his dissolved flesh and clothing. However, the wound looked to be stable. She had feared that the caustic substance would have burned right through to the other side.

After a few moments' silence while they both strained to hear the stranch's movements, he stated flatly. "You're holding a demat gun in your hand."

"I'm well aware of that, Doc. And you can destroy it just as soon as I'm finished with it, although it's no worse than Jack's sonic blaster."

"Why do you think I destroyed Villengard?"

She didn't have a chance to answer because at that moment, Ianto Jones ran into their view, attracting the attention of the creature.

"Ianto, stay back!"

Jumping up from their hiding spot, Melissa ran towards him, hoping to get another shot at the stranch before it could do more damage. The alien was exceedingly agile, however, and leapt out of range before she could do more than aim. Attracted by the Welshman's higher body temperature, the stranch spewed its venom towards Melissa as it continued its pursuit of Ianto. She managed to avoid most of the spray, but a few droplets brushed her left hand and the demat gun. As the venom stung her skin, she dropped the now useless weapon.

Seeing the shiny black, armor-plated alien skittering towards him, Ianto coolly waited for it to come within range of his weapon. Taking careful aim, he fired at the insectoid even as it released a burst of venom in his direction. The bullet tore through the alien's abdomen, causing an explosion that spurted guts into the air.

Time froze.

Melissa looked warily at the scene before her. The droplets of blue venom and green innards that had been racing towards Ianto looked like a Jackson Pollack painting rendered in three dimensions. Taking the utmost care not to touch any of the splatter, she approached the Welshman, putting her uninjured hand on his shoulder and willing him to perceive the moment as she did.

"This is different," he remarked wryly as he looked around in bewilderment. Seeing the droplets suspended in midair, however, he was reminded of Tosh's timelock, and suddenly it made more sense.

"I take it having that hit me would be detrimental to my health."

"Yes," Melissa grunted as she marched him slowly and carefully away from danger.

There were at the edge of the projectiles' paths when she sensed Jack's death yet again. It jolted her consciousness, wrenching her and Ianto back into the normal flow of time. Pushing him down, she landed on top, trying to shield him from the worst of the venom. She rested against him until he calmly mentioned that she might like to move.

It took a moment. She was worn out from what she had done, and would have liked to have stayed horizontal. Suppressing a grimace, she stood carefully, trying to ignore her latest injury. Her right calf was going to need an extended session with the tissue regenerator once the Doctor's injuries were healed. Looking down at Ianto, who didn't seem to be hurt, she offered him her right hand. Studying her, he finally took it, pulling himself up.

"You okay? None of it touched you, did it?" Even as she asked, she was turning away from Ianto to check on the Doctor. It wasn't like him to stay on the sidelines.

Watching her limp awkwardly towards a pile of rubble, he answered evenly. "Not even a pinprick on my suit. You, however, look like you were mauled."

She waved off his concern. "Nothing the tissue regenerator can't fix. Can you call Martha and tell her the Doctor's been injured? And try to contact Jack. He may need help wherever he is."

He obeyed her orders without as much as a second thought. There was a confidence and authority in her voice that reminded him of the Captain at his very best. He did, however, mention to Martha that she had been injured as well. He didn't think Jack would appreciate his wife going into shock and dying on her first Torchwood mission, especially when he couldn't seem to reach him on the comms to tell him she had been injured in the first place.

The Doctor was propped up against a large pile of rubble, his eyes closed. As she approached, he opened his eyes and gave her a weary smile. There was something about him that seemed wrong, however, and she hobbled to him all the faster.

"Honey, I forgot to duck," he joked weakly, and immediately, she pulled his coat aside to reveal a much smaller hole in his chest that she had missed on first examination.

"Reagan almost died," she remarked sharply, clearly not amused. "Why didn't you tell me you had collapsed a lung?"

"The other one works perfectly fine. Besides, the respiratory bypass—"

"Is not meant to be used for long periods of time," she finished for him, glaring severely.

He ignored her reprimand. "Well, you were a bit distracted by the stranch."

She couldn't refute that. Her anger turned into anxiety as she watched his face turn a sickly shade of gray. "Are you strong enough to heal it?"

"Not entirely sure," he admitted sheepishly.

They had been ignoring the elephant in the room since she had opened the watch and saved his life, not wanting to alarm Jack. The blood transfusion had been brilliant, but it had sapped his remaining regenerations as his body patterned his healthy cells after hers. They were both out of second chances, and neither had completely recovered from the ordeal; the Doctor's collapse a few days ago had proven that.

"Then stay with me," she urged as his eyes started to close. "Martha's on her way, and we'll have you in the TARDIS soon. The tissue regenerator can take care of everything once she gets a chest tube inserted."

"I don't have a tissue regenerator that sophisticated." Hanging onto consciousness by a thread, he focused on her voice to keep him occupied.

"But Torchwood does."

"That's right, you modified that Trass Model III for Jack, didn't you? Then, I suppose you'll be wanting to use my screwdriver."

His voice trailed off as he finished the sentence, and alarmed, she slipped into his mind.

He was standing near the TARDIS console, although it was an older version-gleaming white and precisely angled. Manically running around, pushing buttons and twisting dials, he didn't notice her at first, but when he did, his face lit up.

"Hello! A bit busy at the moment, but I'm always glad to see you, Em."

Easily comprehending the metaphor of his current mindscape, she placed herself opposite him to help him pilot the TARDIS.

"It's not six, but I've been told it's better with two."

"Always!" He agreed enthusiastically, and she was heartened to observe that his breathing was easing as she waited impatiently for Martha.

She could hear in the background Ianto attempting to call Jack for the fifth time, and for the fifth time, he didn't answer. She didn't bother to tell him that Jack was still dead. Dying four times in rapid succession must have slowed his recovery time by quite a bit. She could only hope that the stranch was truly dead, or civilians were bound to get hurt.

Looking up from the TARDIS console, the Doctor saw the worried frown on her face. "He'll be fine. You know, it's strange, but I know he's dead, almost like a counterweight is missing on a pulley."

Still working to keep his oxygen levels up and his left lung properly inflated, she spoke without looking up. "I'm not sure I appreciate being compared to a pulley, Doc."

"I'll have to come up with a better analogy, then," he responded, unperturbed.

As the mental TARDIS hit a few bumps, they worked frantically to keep it on course. It was becoming more difficult to steer the ship, and they were both weakening rapidly. Thankfully, Martha and Gwen had finally made it through the bedlam. After a terse exchange with Melissa, Dr. Jones covered the chest wound and performed a needle aspiration. Immediately, the turbulence lessened significantly.

Leaning against the console, the Doctor smiled tiredly. "I'll be fine now. Martha can take care of me. You should take care of yourself. The way you were walking, I thought you'd been hamstrung."

"I'll survive, but I can take a hint. I'm glad you're going to be alright, Doc."

Not wanting her to leave like that, he stopped her departure by softly calling her name. His tone was such a perfect mixture of desire and reverence that she was momentarily stunned. For the moment, he had her undivided attention.

"Thank you, for everything."

She didn't know how to respond. He meant literally everything. She had felt the depth of his love as the words had formed in his mind. She had also felt the crushing guilt, regret and despair that lurked in his shadowed recesses, and she wanted nothing more than to blaze so brightly that they would be banished for good.

"Beloved, I—"

They both startled when she used a term of endearment she hadn't voiced since their daughter's death, and his surge of elation brought a smile to her face.

"You never could get your timing right," she remarked affectionately.

"That's not what I remember," he replied, his expression smug.

"You'll have to remind me later. Right now, I'm biting my tongue while Martha lectures me on your physiology. She does know I have a respiratory bypass, too, doesn't she?"

"Dr. Jones tends to be very assertive in a crisis." The look on his face let her know that he'd like to be doing much more interesting things with her than discussing his former companion.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." She relied on sarcasm as she forced herself to ignore her burgeoning desire.

Before things could escalate, she bid him a hasty farewell. Alone with her thoughts once again, she spoke to Gwen, asking her to assure the first responders that the threat was over so they could begin the rescue and recovery. Gwen didn't take her orders quite as easily as Ianto had, but in the end she did what Melissa suggested because it was the logical thing to do.

Martha insisted that the Doctor ride in an ambulance back to the Hub. While Torchwood's medic was occupied with the Doctor, Melissa tried to insist that she was well enough to walk back to pick up the Jag, but Ianto vetoed that idea. Disgruntled, she reluctantly hitched a ride in the front of the ambulance.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It took a while to get the Doctor settled in the TARDIS infirmary. Martha inserted a chest tube to vent the last of the air that had escaped into the Doctor's chest cavity, but he refused to be put on oxygen, and in the end, she acquiesced. Lying on his back, he tried to rest while Melissa adapted the tissue regenerator, but he kept raising his head to reassure himself that she was alright. When he did that for the fourteenth time, Martha threatened to put him on a ventilator if he didn't keep still. Chastised, he dropped his head and let his eyes close.

By the time she had modified the medical equipment, the Doctor was sleeping, and Martha was perched protectively in the battered chair near the bed. Stifling a sigh, Melissa left the TARDIS to see if Mickey could pinpoint Jack's location. He had been dead an awful long time.

Mickey couldn't help her, but it didn't matter because she felt Jack's resurrection a few minutes later. With a flash, he was standing in the middle of the Hub, wearing a smile on his face, his wrist strap and nothing else.

"Whoa, Captain Underpants, you could at least teleport to your office if you're going to travel in the buff." Mickey had seen more than he cared to see, and quickly turned away, busying himself at Tosh's old workstation.

The grin on Jack's face widened until he noticed that no one else was around. Instantly serious, he directed his question at Melissa. "Where is everyone?"

"Gwen's liaising with the police. Ianto went to pick up your car, and Martha's in the TARDIS taking care of the Doctor."

"The Doctor was hurt? How bad is it?" As he spoke, he strode purposefully to his bedroom, opening the hatch and jumping down to find some clothes.

Hobbling to the opening, she called down. "He's going to be fine. He got hit by some stranch venom and it caused a pneumothorax on his right side. A chest tube's taking care of it, and I modified your tissue regenerator to heal bone and nerves as well as skin and muscle. It's going to take a few hours, but he'll be as good as new."

"You can come down, you know."

"I can't," she answered reluctantly, wishing that she had been just a little faster at the stadium.

Suspicious, he quickly donned his clothes and climbed the ladder. He saw the damage to her calf as he ascended, and then noticed her left hand as his gaze travelled upwards. "Med bay, now."

He let her limp behind him, but when they reached the stairs, he picked her up, and she could feel the tension and anger emanating from him. Without a word, he put her face down on the table and began to clean the raw, jagged wound on her leg. It took most of her control not to scream as he washed out dirt that had become imbedded deep inside the wound. Finished, he bandaged it carefully before letting her sit up. As he did the same to her injured hand, she studied his expression, wishing she knew what he was thinking. Only when he had wrapped her hand did he finally look at her.

"I know you have a problem with Martha, but she is Torchwood's medic, and if you can't accept treatment from her, then you don't belong on the team."

"Martha was busy saving the Doctor's life. And as soon as the tissue regenerator finishes rebuilding his collarbone, lung and rib, I plan on using it. I'm a Time Lord. You know that means I can function with an injury much longer than a human can. It's not that important."

"It's important to me!"

Mickey decided it was time to do some work in the archives, not wanting to eavesdrop. Ianto, however, stood motionless by the workstations. Trying to better understand their relationship, he listened silently.

Somewhat contrite, she tried to reassure him. "Look, I'm sorry, Jack. I'll try to be more careful next time."

Her words, however, had no effect on the Captain. Although he stopped shouting, he was bitingly derisive. "Sweetheart, I don't think that's a promise you can keep. You've got as much of a hero complex as the Doctor, and unlike him, you don't have any regenerations left."

"A hero complex? I'm not the one who died four times today! And Mickey might think it's just one of your jokes to teleport here in the nude, but I know you weren't wearing any clothes because you must have gotten enough stranch venom on them to dissolve them completely. So you have no right to get angry at me for not being careful!"

When Jack realized what she had said, his anger instantly evaporated. Instead, he looked appalled. "You can sense when I die?"

Glumly, she nodded; she hadn't meant to reveal that aspect of the bond to him yet.

Chagrinned now at his own behavior, he brought his hand to her face, lovingly caressing her cheek. "I'm so sorry, Melissa. I didn't have a choice."

"Neither did I," she responded quietly, leaning into his touch.

Ianto watched unobserved as they kissed tenderly. He had only seen such a devoted, vulnerable expression on Jack's face a few times, and he couldn't help but feel a smidgen of jealousy. After all, the Captain had admitted that she was his first, great love, and there was no way to compete with that. And yet, Jack had made it very clear the previous night that there was no need to. Maybe it was easy for an alien and an immortal man from the future to take such open relationships in stride, but it was going to take more time for him to adjust completely. Walking quietly to the archives, he intended to ask Mickey if he had identified any more unlabeled artifacts.

Breaking their kiss, Jack peered worriedly into her vivid green eyes. "Does it hurt you when I die?"

"It's not the most pleasant of sensations," she reluctantly admitted.

He hugged her forcefully, grieved at causing her more pain. She gripped him just as tightly, and he could feel her entire body trembling. He didn't need to be in her mind to know what was wrong.

"I'm fine; the Doctor's going to recover; and the stranch are dead. Not a horrible result for your first full day at Torchwood. Ask Gwen what happened to her the first day on the job."

She grinned at that. Owen had enjoyed entertaining her with that tale in the alternate. Although, she suspected he had embellished it. No one could be that clumsy.

Seeing her smile, he helped her off the table. "Let's go see how the Doctor is doing. If he's conscious, he's probably driven Martha crazy with that gob of his by now. You know how much he likes to talk."

His observations put some very stimulating images in her mind, and her cheeks flushed. When Jack caught the expression on her face, he chuckled knowingly. "I take it you've been driven crazy by that mouth of his before."

"Not this mouth," she answered pedantically, and then gave him a sly smile. "Although, I confess I'm getting curious."

He grinned back at her. "Sweetheart, I've been curious for years. If you find out, I want to hear all the details."

"Jack," she drawled, in perfect imitation of the way the Doctor called the Captain's name when he was particularly exasperated with him.

"What?" he asked in mock surprise. "Or does a Time Lady not kiss and tell?"

"Jack, do not call me a Time Lady! I'm a Time Lord, end of discussion."

"Did you just tell me you're no lady?"

Shaking her head, she stifled her laughter. "You're incorrigible, you know."

"Yes, I am," he said proudly. "And you love it."

"Yes," she agreed warmly, "I do."


	52. Not Alone

Thanks to dwatlaskrhtcm for being such a loyal reviewer. And, thanks to everyone who's still reading this. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Melissa walked into Jack's office knowing that whatever he said, she wasn't going to like it. He and the Doctor had had a long, private discussion yesterday while she had been stuck in the TARDIS infirmary letting the tissue regenerator reconstruct her calf muscles. She knew most of the conversation had been about her, and she was prepared to be quite prickly if they had decided to become overprotective. The words that came out of Jack's mouth, however, shocked her completely.<p>

"I want you and Martha to go out for a coffee."

Flummoxed, she tried a hint of belligerence. "Is that an order?"

Looking up from the reports he was pretending to read, he answered brusquely. "Yes."

"And what if I refuse?"

He deliberately leaned back in his chair. "I told you yesterday what would happen if you can't work out your problem with Martha."

"But-!" She sputtered, trying to think of a retort that wouldn't make her sound like a bitch, or worse yet, a whiny child. "Fine," she snapped.

"Good. Meet her by the fountain in fifteen minutes."

When she slammed the door to his office on her way out, he grinned. That had gone much better than he had expected. Now, if the Doctor could only have the same success with Martha.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Martha cheerfully entered the TARDIS looking for the Doctor. At first, she couldn't find him. When she noticed a portion of the floor grating around the console had been taken away, she almost threw her hands up in exasperation.

"I don't think you're up to maintenance work yet, Doctor. It was only yesterday you were hooked up to a chest tube."

Spryly, he popped out of his cramped work space to stand a few feet in front of her. "I'm fine, Martha. The tissue regenerator was able to fix everything."

Before his former companion could comment, he added with a hopeful expression, "I just wanted to ask you if you'd be willing to go out for a cup of coffee."

"I'd love to!" Seeing her reaction, he felt very guilty for what he was about to say next.

"Good, Melissa will be waiting by the fountain in fifteen minutes."

The happy smile on her face instantly changed to a look of stunned confusion. "What?"

Hiding his unease, he patiently explained. "You and Melissa will be working together for the foreseeable future. The two of you need to come to some sort of understanding, or someone's going to get hurt. Captain's orders, I'm afraid."

"But—"

She closed her mouth. Jack had been reserved with her after the stranch incident yesterday. If he was the one who had come up with this stupid scheme, then she was going to have to play along.

Encouraged by her lack of protest, the Doctor's face split into a relieved grin. "That's the spirit!"

Walking reluctantly out of the TARDIS, Martha groaned.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Martha and Melissa walked silently to Starbuck's, ending up there because it was convenient. They ordered separately, and they might have even sat at different tables if Jack's threat hadn't prompted Melissa to frostily ask Martha to pick a table.

Sitting down, they played with their beverages for a few minutes before the young physician finally broke the ice. "You're not going to pour one of those into the other, are you?"

Melissa had bought two separate drinks, a grande chai latte and a double shot of espresso, and the Doctor's former companion wasn't quite sure what she intended to do with them. Plus, she had also purchased a doughnut and a muffin, even though the Time Lord had eaten three of the bagels Ianto had brought in that morning.

Looking startled, Melissa reddened. "I'm thirsty, and I like them both. I'm going to drink them separately, though."

Curious, she looked at what Martha was drinking. She had a cup of plain, black coffee, although she didn't seem to be taking any pleasure in it.

"Get used to black coffee in med school?"

"No," she admitted after a pause. "I got used to it this way the year I walked the Earth. I was lucky to get coffee most of the time. Learned to be appreciative no matter how bitter it was." Then, because she really wanted to know, she asked hesitantly, "Do you remember that year?"

"The part I lived through," she answered without thinking. Seeing Martha's guilty expression, however, she quickly added, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" The young medic couldn't think of anything for which Melissa might need to apologize, except perhaps being frigid towards her since her arrival.

"I'm sorry you had to go through any of that year. I wish I had killed that bastard when I'd had the chance."

"You could have killed the Master on Gallifrey?"

"No," she stated bitterly. "I could have killed him here, in Cardiff. I met him when he was Minister of Defense. I could sense who he was, but I wasn't allowed to kill him."

"You weren't allowed?" Martha's coffee was now forgotten.

"The Bad Wolf wouldn't let me." Agitated, Melissa drank down her espresso like she was throwing back a shot of whiskey.

Martha's lips curled into an ironic half-smile. "Good old Rose. Even when she's gone, she's still here."

The Time Lord looked at her wryly. "That's one way to put it."

Melissa didn't really consider Rose and the Bad Wolf to be the same entity. Rose didn't remember her time as the Bad Wolf. And, a being that held all the power of time and space would have a far different perspective than a nineteen year old girl. But, she sensed a fledgling rapport with the new Torchwood medic, and didn't want to ruin it by arguing semantics.

Eating her cake doughnut, which was definitely not as satisfying as a Krispy Kreme, she searched for another topic of common interest. Martha spoke first, however, deciding to confront the one issue neither one of them was comfortable talking about.

"I'm sorry your children were killed in the Dalek attack. I know you think they would have survived if you had been a Time Lord."

For a while, Melissa gave no indication that she was going to respond. She sipped her chai latte, her eyes downcast. Just when Martha thought that there was no point in staying, the older woman looked up, her expression austere.

"I despised you, you know. My kids had been killed by my most hated enemy, an enemy that destroyed my people, my planet, and almost everyone I have ever loved. I needed someone to blame." Locking eyes with the young doctor, she confessed resolutely. "I hated you, Martha Jones, until I read my daughter's diary."

"Why?" This definitely wasn't the reaction she had been expecting.

"Because Susan knew about the watch for almost a year. She was planning on giving it to the Doctor at graduation. She was scared I wouldn't want to be her mother anymore, scared I wouldn't love her, and she wanted to finish high school before that happened."

"But that's horrible!" Martha blurted out her comment without thinking, and seeing the effect it had on Melissa, she was instantly apologetic. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel worse. It's just, your daughter must have been dealing with a lot of guilt and worry all that time. It must have been really hard for her."

"It was. And I understand why she was afraid. She'd had so much change in her life. She just wanted everything to stay the same for once. She wanted me to stay the same. It was easy to forgive her, and when I did, I found I could forgive you."

"Then, why've you been acting all—?" She shrugged, not knowing how to politely finish her sentence.

"Why have I been acting like the ice queen around you?"

The young woman nodded slowly, wondering what Melissa was going to say next. This conversation had taken a turn she never would have imagined.

"Well, for one thing, if you had told the Doctor about the watch, Susan wouldn't have had to go through what she did. She never would have been forced to agonize over that choice. And, yes, it may be irrational to be upset about that, but I am."

"And," she continued, her voice suddenly laced with anger. "You assumed I was going to be like that bastard. I can't decide if that was an insult to me, the Doctor or our entire species. The Master was insane, and perverse, and enjoyed causing others pain, and I think Lucy deserves a medal for being the one who finally killed him."

"I'm sorry. You seemed so nice. I thought that it was better to have you human than to risk your entire personality changing."

"The Doctor tried to explain all that to me," she finally admitted. "And, I'm trying to accept it, Martha. But you have to try, too. You're going to have to trust me."

"I can—"

Whatever Martha might have said was interrupted by the deafening roar of three Judoon ships rumbling overhead as they landed by the bay. The two women recognized the ships immediately and took off running. They met the Doctor, Jack, and the rest of Torchwood outside on the Plass near the water fountain. A stream of Judoon were methodically scanning and marking every person on the nearby streets, shops and office buildings as they continued their inexorable progress towards the Rift. And marching determinedly in their wake was the Shadow Architect, flanked by the Shadow Oracles.

"Shit. I was hoping they'd be late for a change. Ianto, get the disrupters from the armory."

"Don't bother, Captain. We're vastly outnumbered. Adding disrupters to the mix is only going to get someone hurt."

"What? I'm just supposed to let them take you for trial, Doctor? They're not known for accepting a claim of extenuating circumstances."

"If that's what's necessary to keep these people safe, then yes!"

Ianto paused, suddenly unsure. While the Time Lord and the immortal glared at each other, Melissa caught Ianto's attention. With a few discreet hand motions, she offered to take his burden. The Welshman gratefully gave a slight nod and watched her slip away.

After a second, Jack gave in. "Fine, no disruptors. They're too many of them for it to matter anyway."

"What's the plan, boss?" Mickey looked directly at the Doctor, understanding that Jack had just ceded his authority to the Time Lord.

"I'm going to speak to the Shadow Architect. I'm sure she'll be able to listen to reason." "Besides," he added cheerfully, "if there's one thing I know how to do, it's talk!"

While the Doctor's answer didn't reassure Gwen or Ianto, Jack, Martha and Mickey had anticipatory grins on their faces. It was at this point, however, that Jack and the Doctor realized that Melissa was missing, and both instantly sobered. Jack demanded to know where she had gone.

"She's gone to the armory," Ianto volunteered as he watched the mass of Judoon march ever closer. Dryly, he added, "I guess she had a different plan."

The Doctor gave the archivist a sharp look, but refused to be baited. The Judoon were practically on top of them, and he couldn't follow her now even if he had wanted to.

Racing to the tourist entrance of the Hub, Melissa slipped between the cog wheel doors as soon as they widened enough to let her inside. She frantically ransacked the armory, finally finding a stunner advanced enough to knock out the Judoon, although she would have preferred the demat gun. Impatiently, she stood on the lift as it slowly ascended.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Emerging undetected from the Hub, she studied the scene before her. The Doctor was standing in the open, facing the Judoon, while Jack and the rest of the team stood slightly behind him. An older, grim-faced woman who could only be the Shadow Architect stood in front of him, flanked by several of her aides. Her pale red eyes were filled with anger, and she was demanding that the Doctor surrender to the Shadow Proclamation. Knowing she had to act quickly, Melissa gathered a reserve of energy, and concentrating intently, matched her body against the flow of time.

The scene in front of her froze. Calmly, she walked to the center to stand near the fountain. She was dismayed by the sheer number of Judoon, but she raced through the Plass, firing the weapon at the tough aliens. Each time, the discharge raced out of the barrel only to stop in midair. By the time she had targeted all of the one hundred twenty Judoon, she was weak and trembling. She shoved those reactions aside to take her place in front of the Doctor. She'd felt his disapproving gaze upon her the entire time, but he had remained still, unwilling to jeopardize her safety by breaking her concentration.

All of a sudden, she could feel another gaze upon her, a gaze so completely foreign yet somehow familiar. Accepting the mental touch, she felt the breathtaking presence of the Bad Wolf. In that instant, the Wolf unlocked parts of her mind, and she could see with a clarity she never knew she possessed. With a fierce joy, she smiled dangerously, more than ready to confront those who would threaten her mates.

To everyone except the two Time Lords, it seemed as if Melissa had appeared from thin air, firing a weapon faster than they could see, incapacitating the Judoon in an instant. Cowed by her display of power, the Shadow Architect was nevertheless too proud to admit defeat. Standing a mere six feet away, she continued to make her demands known. The Shadow Oracles, however, were more prudent, and retreated a few yards.

"The Doctor will be handed over to my custody to stand trial for willfully ignoring a lawful order given to him by the Shadow Architect, or this planet will suffer the consequences."

"I address the Shadow Proclamation in the name of the Bad Wolf." Melissa's voice boomed over the wail of distant sirens, and had such a ring of command that even the Doctor and Jack made no move to stop her.

Knowing that her words would be instantly transmitted to every world that was a signee to the Shadow Proclamation, she smiled pleasantly before beginning in a voice of authority that brooked no argument.

"The Doctor is a citizen of Sol 3, a level five planet, and therefore cannot be held under the Shadow Accords. Moreover, the Doctor is a Time Lord. His race was never a signatory to your treaties and cannot be expected to be bound by your laws.

When the Shadow Architect made a move to protest, Melissa stopped her with a single glare. "You are foolish! Twenty-seven worlds were stolen by the Daleks. Twenty-seven worlds you could not find. The Doctor defeated the Daleks and returned those same twenty-seven planets to their proper orbits without your help or interference."

Her face turned stony as she continued to berate the Shadow Architect. "I am the Emissary of the Bad Wolf, and I have a message for you, Architect. Do not attempt to harass the Doctor again. He has saved many worlds of the Shadow Proclamation and beyond, and will save countless others in time to come. The Bad Wolf also commands that you not attempt to punish this planet. It is defended. For you are tiny, Architect, and WE ARE NOT ALONE!"

Raising her hands above her, she allowed the Bad Wolf to channel the energy necessary to breach the Void. Suddenly, the plaza was buffeted by strong winds and a metallic groaning. Slowly, three black, cylindrical TARDISes winked into existence in a neat triangle around the fountain.

It was as if time exploded, and no one knew where to look first. Waves of young, black-clad Time Lords marched rapidly and precisely out of the three ships to form a giant protective cordon around the Doctor and those who stood with him. They filled the entire Plass, numbering in the thousands.

The Doctor stared dumbfounded along with everyone else until a group of sixteen elder Time Lords finally appeared at the door of the TARDIS nearest the confrontation. Purposefully, they walked towards him. Immediately recognizing the broad shouldered, tall blond man who was leading the delegation, he sank to his knees in shock.

The Judoon were just waking up, but noticing they were surrounded and vastly outnumbered, they seemed little inclined towards violence. As the Shadow Architect and her aides made a hasty retreat, they followed, their ships taking off noisily near the bay.

Melissa dropped her hands, scarcely understanding what she had done as the power of the Bad Wolf left her. She fell heavily to the ground, unconscious. Jack, who had seen her collapse, was at her side in an instant, cradling her body and inexplicably shouting for Owen. The rest of the group barely noticed; they could only look on in amazement as every single Time Lord on the Plass knelt before the Doctor.

Slowly standing, the leader of the Time Lord delegation approached and reassuringly laid his hands on the Doctor's shoulders. Bending down, he spoke dryly in his ear. "Better stand up, Bro, or else the young ones will get their knees dusty and Flavia will have my hide. She hates cleaning those uniforms."

Struggling to comprehend with a distracting buzzing in his ears and his vision tunneling, the Doctor let the man clasp his left arm and pull him upright. He seemed to sway a little, and the man warned, "Don't you dare faint, Thete. You need to take control of the situation, quickly. The last thing we need is Borusa asserting his authority here."

Hearing his hated nickname had the desired effect, and the Doctor stiffened his legs, taking a deep breath to banish his lightheadedness. Striding confidently to the contingent of senior Time Lords, he enthusiastically pumped Flavia's hand. She was tall and willowy, her long brown hair tangling as it flew in the strong breeze.

"Flavia! I can't begin to tell you how wonderful it is to see you, all of you, actually." His eyes scanned the group, recognizing all of them instantly, including Borusa.

"High Lord President, it is indeed an honor to finally be reunited in our rightful universe." As his face betrayed his distaste for the title, Flavia's eyes beseeched him, flicking briefly in Borusa's direction.

Accepting the inevitability of the title for the moment, the Doctor raised his hand in a gesture for the rest of them to stand. As one, thousands of Time Lords stood silently on the Plass, anxiously awaiting the words of a legend.

They would have to wait. Hearing Jack's shouts, the Doctor raced towards Melissa's still form. "Hurry up, Brax!" he cried over his shoulder when his brother failed to follow.

By then, Jack was frantic. His memories had returned with a vengeance, and he was temporarily caught in the past, shouting for Owen, not understanding why his medic did not appear. When the Doctor reached both of them, he lightly placed his right hand Jack's shoulder. His friend stared at him in confused disbelief.

"You're dead!" Then, trusting his eyes more than his mind, he pleaded with his friend. "You've got to help her, Doc! The last time she did this, she injured her temporal lobe and lost her sense of time. Owen knows what to look for. Help her, please!"

Although Melissa's condition was the focus of his concern, the Doctor took the time to study Jack for a moment. "Your need to rest, Captain."

"How do you expect me to rest when she's like this? I have to know she's going to be all right!" Peering behind his friend, he again shouted. "Owen! Got damn it, Owen Harper, where are you?"

"Captain." The Doctor's voice demanded obedience, and his former companion immediately turned to him. "Do you trust me, Jack?"

Confused, he nevertheless nodded. Placing his hands on the immortal's face, the Doctor quickly eased him into sleep, laying him gently on the ground. Ianto, who had grown increasingly troubled as Jack called out for the dead medic, nervously approached the Doctor while the rest of Torchwood stared in stunned silence.

"Sir."

"He's going to be alright, Mr. Jones. He's had a shock, and he needs time for his mind to process it. Organize some of the Time Lords and get a stretcher to take him back to the Hub. He should be fine when he wakes up."

Before Ianto could leave, the Doctor added, "I need you to find a space for everyone to congregate. Millennium Center, the stadium, a school, I don't care. And they'll probably need food. Call the Brigadier and have some UNIT troops sent here, just in case there are any more surprises today." Ianto left quickly to do the Doctor's bidding.

Jack taken care of, the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver to scan Melissa, but Braxitel was already putting his hands on her face to mentally search for injuries. After a few seconds, he pulled away, giving a terse account. "Shock, exhaustion, psychic feedback where something extremely powerful overwhelmed her defenses and a partially healed skull fracture. What the hell have you two been up to?"

Seeing the annoyed and frankly possessive look on his brother's face, Brax quickly reassured him, "I just did a surface reading, strictly medical. I'm a doctor now too, Bro, well, at least a human one."

Ignoring the thousands of questions waiting to be answered, the Doctor grinned at his brother. "Tell me at least one of those TARDIS's has a fully stocked, functioning trauma center."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shouting assurances to the senior Time Lord delegation as he lagged behind Brax, the Doctor carried Melissa to the nearest TARDIS. While he impatiently waited for the door to open, he quickly studied his brother. Braxitel was tall and fit in a broad, Viking sort of way. His hair was blond and spiky; his eyes were deep blue, and he had a dimple on his chin. He also had a few lines around his eyes, but they were the kind you earned from spending most of your time in the sun.

"So, Brax," he finally began, although he was sure his brother would notice the underlying emotion in his voice. "I can't tell you how happily gobsmacked I am to see you alive, but do you mind telling me how you managed that? Or how you managed to save the children? Last I knew they were in the bunker on Arcadia, and when the planet fell-" He couldn't finish; memories of what the Daleks did to Arcadia were still too painful to recall with words.

His brother looked at him in confusion. "Emma saved the children. Surely, she told you?"

"She doesn't remember anything that happened at Arcadia. Nor does she know how she survived the War."

"Whoa." Brax prepared Melissa for the medical diagnostic before replying. "I assumed you would know our situation. There's a lot to tell you in a short amount of time."

"Yes, like how Lord Borusa happens to be walking around. Last I saw him he was a stone effigy on Rassilon's tomb."

"You'll have to ask your bond mate. All I know is that the plan was somehow fucked up royally, and when she came back from her audience with Rassilon, Borusa was tagging along, acting like the insufferable prick he's always been."

There were so many unknowns in his explanation that the Doctor didn't even try to understand it. Instead, he snorted in amusement over his brother's choice of words. "Spend a few years on a parallel Earth and decide to go native, did you?"

Brax gave him a sunny smile. "You would not believe some of the expressions I picked up! I spent a year or two riding the California waves in my misspent youth to keep my persona authentic. The babes working at Doctors Without Borders thought I was hot."

"No doubt." He smiled back, still unable to believe his good fortune. He was sitting in a TARDIS that wasn't his own, talking to his brother of all people, while thousands of young Time Lords congregated in Cardiff. His head was so stuffed full of the mental buzz of his species that he felt somewhat giddy.

Just then, Flavia rushed into the medical bay, briskly checking Melissa's condition for herself. Satisfied, she turned to give the Doctor a warm smile, only to be wrapped up in an enthusiastic hug.

"Flavia! I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see you!"

"Doctor, it's good to see you, too, although I think it would be better if you put me down." She laughed, untwisting her broomstick skirt as her feet found the floor. "You know, you almost act like you thought we were dead!"

Brax answered sympathetically before his brother could respond. "He did think we were dead. Something's happened to Emma; she doesn't remember Arcadia or anything afterwards."

Glancing at the unconscious woman, Flavia sighed. "It is not surprising that she has some memory loss, I suppose. Regenerating so many times in such a short span can't have been easy. I really don't know how she managed to stay focused enough to pilot the lead TARDIS in the middle of the apocalypse. Although, if she hadn't, we'd all be dead. But, surely, Doctor, once you knew she was alive, certainly you realized that something of the Greater Plan succeeded? Surely you hoped we were alive?"

Bewildered, the Doctor asked, "What Greater Plan?"

"Romana didn't-?"

Gazing into the Doctor's eyes, Flavia continued more somberly. "No, I can see she didn't. Perhaps the High Lord President did not wish to give you false hope. I am so sorry." Quietly, she asked, "How long have you been alone, thinking yourself the last?"

They were both looking at him in expectation, and the Doctor found that talking about what had happened to him since the Time War wasn't something he was prepared to do. However, it was equally apparent that they all needed to share information quickly. Looking at Brax first for permission, he raised his left hand to his brother's face and then brought his right to Flavia's.

As fast as the speed of thought, the Doctor saw all that he needed to know. Through Flavia's eyes, he saw the High Council futilely debating the need for a plan to save Gallifrey from the Moment of Unmaking. Then, incredibly, he witnessed Rassilon himself appearing in the Council chamber one month before the Daleks' last assault, offering himself as a sacrifice to save the planet.

The Council eagerly accepted his plan and his conditions. Emma was made Castellan at Rassilon's insistence, though she never knew the reason for her promotion. They put her in charge of the Greater Plan, as they were calling it, explaining that if the Moment was unleashed, one chance remained to save Gallifrey. Five TARDISes would be placed around Rassilon's tomb. They would draw the power of the Vortex and channel it through the great lord himself. The energy released from the Death Zone, due to its unique nature in the time stream, would protect Gallifrey from the Moment, where it would emerge unscathed on the other side, into a universe where the Daleks were no more.

It was a good plan, the Doctor thought, positively brilliant, but Brax showed him how easily it all went wrong. The Daleks' final assault began as a feint against Arcadia. Somehow, they had known that the Time Lord children were being sheltered there in case disaster could not be averted. The Council was in chaos; it would matter little if the Greater Plan worked if they could not save the future of their people.

So, Emma, with Brax and Flavia in tow, had teleported to Rassilon's tomb and had taken three of the TARDISes to the underground bunkers of Arcadia. By then, the bunkers were deadlock sealed; though that would do them little good against the weapons the Daleks had used that day. They had to waste precious time and energy reversing the deadlock, and by then the planet had already started to break apart. Emma was injured as part of the bunker collapsed, but she managed to rally the remaining guards and chaperones to evacuate the students into the TARDISes.

Before the Academy students could finish boarding, she remembered her promise to the ruler of Arcadia. She began to ferry the children of that world to Verona while waiting for the rest of the young Time Lords to enter the other two TARDISes. But her willingness to assist their allies cost them precious time.

Her task completed, the three TARDISes were sent into the Vortex as the planet was ripping apart due to the Time Bombs. It affected their dematerialization, and the ships did not return to Rassilon's tomb until the Moment was minutes from being unleashed. By then, it was a moot point. When they materialized in the tomb, there were only four TARDISes ringed around Rassilon; one had been stolen, and without it, the plan would not work.

Desperate to find a way to at least save the children, Emma left her TARDIS to speak to the great founder of Time Lord society. No one knew what had transpired between them, but Lord Borusa, newly revived from his stint as a stone effigy, accompanied her back to her TARDIS.

When the Moment hit, she led the ships in a crazy attempt to outrun the shockwave. It had overcome them, of course. Nothing could outrun the Moment, but somehow Emma managed ride it, steering the four ships in tandem and dropping them out of the Vortex to land on a blue-green planet.

It was only after landing that anyone comprehended the destructive forces to which her TARDIS had been subjected. The time rotor had cracked from the heat of the flames, and Emma was close to death, her lungs filled with smoke and her back badly burnt, even though her body was but seconds old. Her injuries went well beyond their capacity to heal at that time. All the ships had suffered damage, and unfortunately, the medical centers of each were offline.

Discovering they were on Earth, Brax made a hasty decision and used the Chameleon Arch on her, hoping that the humans could alleviate her suffering, if not save her life. Unfortunately, the Arch he used had been damaged, and her mind retained too much knowledge of her true self, surfacing at dangerous moments. Not knowing how long she would have to remain in such a state, he forced a much younger regeneration on himself and used another Arch. He would not leave her alone in any guise; she was his bond sister and his responsibility.

The point of view was Flavia's once again as she related how Borusa had chosen that moment to assert his authority over them all. Without Emma to refute him, he became the de facto leader of the survivors, using Rassilon's name as his justification for everything he did. Begrudgingly, he saw to it that Emma was treated by the humans, and made the two Chameleon Arched Time Lords his wards, telling their human selves that he was their grandfather.

Consolidating his power over the years, he created an entire town to house the last remnants of the Time Lord Academy. Pressing the other adults into becoming teachers, he brutally saw to it that every child and adolescent finished their studies. Emboldened by the lack of resistance, he began to speak about the return of Gallifrey, telling the students that one day the time lock would be broken, and he would return to Rassilon's tomb to rectify the Castellan's mistake.

Fearful of Borusa's power, Flavia had pretended to support him while working ceaselessly to undermine his authority. For every edict he issued, she secretly told her students another story of their home and their history, making the Doctor the subject of many of her tales.

When Borusa justified his authority by stating that he had been president, Flavia quietly told the tale of his entombment with Rassilon. Then, she happened to mention that the Doctor had served as president just prior to the beginning of the Time War, leading Gallifrey to a new age of enlightenment and democracy. When Borusa mentioned defeating the Daleks, Flavia pointed out that the Doctor already had, nobly sacrificing all he held dear to keep those hate-filled beings from scouring the universe. When Borusa viciously pushed the students to their limits and beyond, Flavia comforted them with amusing stories from the Doctor's youth, stories that usually ended with the Doctor playing some prank on Borusa or another pompous instructor.

Not knowing that Flavia was planting the seeds of discord, Borusa's personal attacks on Brax and Emma continued relentlessly, and that was where he made his mistake. While the students and most of the adults accepted Borusa's explanation that Emma and Brax remain human until their bodies matured, they did not accept the mental persecution Borusa bestowed on the two ignorant heroes. The Castellan and Cardinal had personally saved their lives, and it was easy to feel sympathetic towards them as their leader made them feel stupid and clumsy and unworthy each day of their human existence.

A few years later, some of the students were able to liberate Brax and his watch. Flavia secretly sent him to California to study until the age of twenty-five, and then she used the watch to restore him. During his years away, he had thrived as a human, earning a medical degree several years early, and enjoying the thrill and camaraderie of the California surfing community.

He returned to their society hidden in the bayous of Louisiana to lay down the law to Borusa. It was agreed that Emma would remain human until her twenty-fifth birthday, whereupon they would present her with the watch. She was also allowed to attend university.

Perhaps that was Brax's one mistake. Isolated and shunned for much of her life, Emma finally found a place where she was accepted for her great intelligence and sought after for her lively wit and stunning beauty. Secretly, she became involved with another undergraduate, a communications major who was attending college on a military scholarship.

She and Mark eloped on her twenty-first birthday, and she became pregnant just a month later. Abandoning her studies, she happily settled into life as a homemaker. Her pregnancy had blindsided Brax and Flavia. Borusa used it as an excuse not to turn her back, arguing that she would want to raise her human children as a human. They had no choice but to acquiesce. However, Brax took her watch into his safekeeping, not trusting Borusa to give it to her once her children were grown.

Such was the situation for sixteen years, until the day one of the students, now a mature Time Lord in her own right, saw a vision of the Doctor's death by an ancient enemy, the Racnoss. As the stars in their universe began to slowly disappear, they planned their escape to the proper universe, hoping to aid the Doctor before his death became a reality.

Borusa, however, still wielded enough power that he refused to take Susan and Matthew with them, arguing that they belonged in their own universe. Desperate, Brax put the watch and a note for Matthew into the young man's backpack, sending them all through the Void in a powerful time storm. He hoped that it would send them back far enough for Emma to save his brother from the fate the seer had predicted. But the energy needed for such a precise storm had drained the remaining three TARDISes, causing them to become stuck in the dying Void.

As the Doctor received the startling information from the two Time Lords, he imparted it as well. He showed them his Ninth self, not caring if he lived or died, finding Rose and then Jack, and travelling with them until they were taken to the Gamestation in the expectation that the Doctor could defeat the Daleks yet again. He showed them the Bad Wolf and the Daleks turning to dust and Rose burning with the power of Time and Space and Jack's resurrection as a Fact.

Then, after he regenerated, they saw the Daleks yet again, and Rose being lost to another universe. He let them see Martha, and Jack and the Master, and all the Toclafane and the Paradox Machine and the Year That Never Was. He let them smell the smoke of the fire as he burned the Master's body, alone once again. After, there was Donna and her friendship, Jenny and her death, the Library and a girl named River Song, a planet called Midnight, and his supposed death, centered entirely on Donna and one single choice.

He pointed out how amazing Donna had been, stopping an alternate reality by sacrificing her own life. Finally, in a rush, he let them experience the Earth's disappearance and his confrontation with the Shadow Proclamation, the shock of seeing Davros and the Supreme Dalek, and the greater shock of seeing what Dalek Caan had accomplished. Then he showed them the Daleks' spectacular defeat, the creation of the DoctorDonna and his half-human self.

And throughout it all, he showed them Melissa, found injured on a mountain hours after her children had been rescued, building a new human life for herself because Susan and Matthew did not trust him well enough to give him the watch. She was intertwined with it all, never a significant part until his supposed death, but a friend and confidant and anchor to him nonetheless.

Finished, they withdrew into their own minds, staring at each other speculatively. The Doctor broke the silence first.

"I understand your motivation, Flavia, but I can't believe you turned me into some sort of hero. You've placed me in a position where I have to lead these children, and I don't know where you want me to lead them to. Have you thought of that, Flavia? Gallifrey is gone, and it will take years to grow enough TARDISes for everyone. What do you expect me to do in the meantime?

Brax winced. He had seen enough to know that his brother had been affected by Gallifrey's destruction much more than they had. His brother had been utterly alone, thinking himself the last, bearing the guilt of being the executioner of his own species, no matter that it was for the greater good. He could certainly understand why the Doctor would shun any position of authority.

"Look, Bro, you don't have to lead them anywhere. Right now, we just need you to talk to them, say hello. They don't fault you for what happened. Everyone knows that the final strategy was put to a vote by the entire population. They accept the decision of the majority and saw enough on Arcadia to understand why it was used." More gently, he added, "No one, least of all Flavia and I, blame you in any way. You did what you had to do."

"Did I?" he asked softly, searching for acceptance in his brother's eyes. "I killed Julix and Lexi, and Amathow and Romana and hundreds of thousands more. And yet, here you are. Did any of them really have to die?"

"I don't know," Brax admitted so quietly that he was almost whispering. "All I know is that there was a war, and we lost, but we are not defeated. And that's thanks to you and Emma."

Swallowing the lump in his throat the Doctor managed to nod. Brax kept his hand on his shoulder until he was able to speak. Finally, the Doctor briskly gave them instructions.

"Emma and I will address our people together. I'm sure they'll want to hear from her as well. In the meantime, find a human named Ianto Jones. He'll be wearing a suit. Help him get everyone settled and fed. They've waited over forty years; they can wait a little while longer."

Before the two could leave, he added dangerously, "And have a little chat with Lord Borusa. If he insists on spouting nonsense about reentering the Time War, let him know that Torchwood would be happy to let him have the use of one of their cells."


	53. Borusa

Author's Notes - Since this went AU after Journey's End, I couldn't help but bring the Time Lords back in some way. This was written well before the End of Time, and while it was an exciting episode, I wish they had allowed for the Time Lords' return. They're a good foil for the Doctor.

Thanks to MaryMatthesen, TheOnyxRose and dwatlaskrhtcm for their reviews. Hope you enjoy the twists and turns!

* * *

><p>Sitting in the small medical bay watching Melissa breathe, the Doctor tried to keep his fears in check. It had been eight hours since she had collapsed, and he was beginning to become concerned at her continued lack of consciousness. He didn't know what the Bad Wolf had done to bring their people out of the Void, but he knew she had suffered for it.<p>

He sensed Jack's presence before he saw him. Straightening in his chair, he turned to peer intently at his friend as he walked through the door to the trauma center. Jack's face was stained with tears; he was making no attempt to hide his emotions. His memory had returned with a vengeance.

"Jack?" His friend only glanced in his direction before sitting beside Melissa.

"I'm sorry," he whispered over and over as he gently smoothed her hair. Tears were once again falling unchecked down his face. Assuming that he would be in the way, the Doctor stood to leave the small room.

"Don't go."

"I thought you might like to be alone with her".

Wiping his eyes, Jack turned towards the Doctor. "She's not waking up, and I don't think I can watch her be so very still. Stay, please."

It was a request he could not ignore. Pulling up a chair for his friend, he tried to reassure the Captain. "She's going to recover, Jack. She'll be as good as new."

Slouching in the chair, the Captain closed his eyes. "I don't think she can be as good as new ever again. I think she must be broken." He paused, choking back more tears before adding quietly, "And so am I."

Immediately, the Doctor put his hand on Jack's arm in sympathy. Startled, the Captain looked blankly at his friend. It was so easy to see the devastation on his face, and the Doctor quickly embraced him in a strong hug. He held him tightly as Jack shook, crying silently against his shoulder.

"She's going to wake up, Captain. I promise. As for the rest, I'm so very, very sorry. I said a long time ago that she hasn't had the easiest life, but then neither of you have, have you?"

Too emotional to speak, Jack acknowledged the Time Lord's words with a small shake of his head.

"I wish I could have done something for you both."

"Yeah, but that was the whole point of the alternate. You weren't there. We did the best we could, but it wasn't ever good enough." Jack was slowly starting to recover his perspective, but the devastation of Melissa's death in that timeline and the grief of their daughter's passing were still at the forefront of his thoughts.

"It looked to me like you were both better than good enough, Jack. Life's not fair; sometimes you just have some really rotten luck. At least you had each other. It's obvious she loves you just as much as you love her."

"She loves you, too," he said loyally, but the Doctor cut him off.

"I left her, Jack, just like I left you. No matter what her feelings for me, we certainly don't have the same relationship that you and she share at the moment, and that's understandable. For us, it's just going to take some time."

Silently, they both watched her still form, each wondering when she'd wake.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Melissa woke up physically stronger than she had been in weeks. Glancing around, however, she took one look at Jack and broke down, flinging herself into his arms and sobbing uncontrollably against his chest. The Doctor edged out the door, unnoticed.

Gripping her tightly, he did his best to reassure her. "I remember everything, Sweetheart. That day when the Titanic crashed I felt like I wanted to die, but I wouldn't have changed a thing. Joy was beautiful, and ours and we'll always remember her, and I told Matthew I loved him and Susan was devastated when you died, and Owen and Tosh had a chance at a life together, all because of you. I love you, Melissa Morgan Harkness, Time Lord or human, and I always will. I'm sorry it took me so long to remember."

Suddenly, he was kissing her fiercely even as she entered his mind. She found him standing in the middle of a bleak, cold desert, wearing his usual clothing, his overcoat flapping in the wind. As soon as he saw her, his entire countenance became joyful, and he took her in his arms, spinning her around. When he put her down, they were standing underneath a familiar stained glass pavilion, the waterfall roaring in the background. She was wearing the long, green dress that perfectly matched her eyes, her face lit by a sunny smile.

Exuberant, he wrapped her in a tight hug. "I've missed this so much, and I didn't even know what I was missing!"

Sobering abruptly, he blinked back tears. "I don't know how you managed as well as you did, losing Joy and Susan and Matthew in such a short amount of time. I should have been there for you. I promised I would remember, and you had to mourn our children alone."

"I was never alone, and you remember now. That's all that matters."

They clung to each other, sharing their grief until he imaged a field of lush, soft red grass. Laying her gently down in the undulating field, he knelt beside her, tenderly anointing her body with his lips. With each kiss, he poured the depth of his love for her into her very soul. Soaking up his devotion, she filled slowly, and then burst like a damn on a river, sending her own emotions careening into him.

Existing completely within the other, he knew every vanity, every fear, every doubt he had ever known was laid bare to her, and he didn't care. She understood who he had been, who he was, and incredibly, who he could be. And her acceptance of him was unconditional, just as his was for her. They surged together, both experiencing the climax of their union through their own perspective as well as their partner's. For a precious moment, Jack truly did not know where he began and she ended, their perceptions completely entangled.

His point of view slowly returned to a singular one. He was completely worn out, and with a lingering farewell, he slipped out of her mind to find her lying comfortably in his arms. Their mental union had been so overwhelming that he could only vaguely recall their physical joining. He couldn't help it; he chuckled at the thought.

"What?"

"I never thought I'd ever say that something was better than sex."

"I think it's better with sex, myself."

"I'm sure you're right, but honestly, I hardly noticed."

That got a chuckle out of her. "If you were anyone but Jack Harkness saying that, I might feel insulted. I think I'll take it as a compliment instead."

Content, he trailed his fingers across her stomach, enjoying the occasional twitch of her muscles. They were still nude, pressed closely together on the infirmary's narrow bed when the Doctor walked in.

"Not to spoil the reunion, but I've stalled for as long as I can." Briskly, he picked up Jack's pants and threw them in the Captain's general direction.

"Everyone's anxious to greet, you, Emma. I get the distinct impression that they don't think I've been taking very good care of you."

As Jack swiftly pulled on his pants, Melissa sat up reluctantly, wondering what he was talking about. Before she could ask for an explanation, the Doctor took an exaggerated sniff and started babbling.

"Blimey, there are a lot of pheromones in here. Maybe you two should have a shower. Yep, definitely a shower. But separately, not together, because if you showered together, you'd never finish, and I was completely serious when I said that everyone's getting anxious. You don't mind taking the time to clean up, do you, Em? I mean, things are complicated enough without complicating them further. Certain people might be somewhat judgmental, and perhaps it's for the best if we keep your part of the bond quiet, Captain, at least until the dust settles.

Looking like he had finally lost his sanity, she demanded, "What the hell are you talking about, Doc?"

The Doctor's smile faded instantly. "You don't sense them?"

"Sense what?"

Automatically, Jack moved beside her while the Doctor asked, "Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital?"

She hadn't really cared enough to think about it. Knowing that Jack had remembered their life together had been enough to distract her from asking how she had suddenly recovered from her head injury. Taking a look around, she felt dizzy, and it was a good thing that she was already on the bed.

"I, where, I mean, how? I can feel-there's thousands of them!"

Taking deep, cleansing breaths, she allowed them to explain to her how she had channeled the power of the Bad Wolf to bring the TARDISes through the Void. Then, the Doctor quietly explained to both of them how she had saved the children of Arcadia and the children of Gallifrey in the final moments of the Time War.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she hugged them both in pure relief. "I wasn't a coward like that bastard after all, thank Rassilon!"

Eager, she showered and dressed swiftly, letting Jack do the same. She couldn't wait to meet those she had saved.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Dressed, her wet hair braided down her back, Melissa gripped the Doctor's hand tightly for support as she walked down the long hallways towards the console room of the Battle TARDIS. Jack was standing just a step behind her, and she took comfort in his presence as well. After her initial euphoria, she had become somewhat apprehensive. The Doctor hadn't told her who she would be meeting, just that she would recognize all of them.

He had made it quite clear that she and Jack were to keep the nature of their relationship a secret, especially the existence of the bond. At that point, he had admitted that one of the Time Lords would consider any bond with a human to be a perverse aberration, not to mention the fact that she was doubly bonded to the Doctor. A shiver had gone down her spine at his announcement. There hadn't been many taboos left unbroken by the end of the Time War, but bonding with a member of the lesser species had definitely been one of them.

Seeing her look of apprehension, the Doctor jauntily attempted to reassure her, although his words sounded brittle to her ears. "Don't worry, Em. It seems that I've been elected High Lord President in absentia. I won't allow anyone bother you or Jack, for any reason."

The Captain tensed, abruptly realizing that everyone he was about to meet would consider him wrong. He hoped no one would actually run away; that might be too much of a blow to his suddenly fragile ego.

Guessing exactly what was going through his friend's mind, the Doctor dropped Melissa's hand for a moment to clap him heartily on the back. "Really, Captain, you didn't think you could marry her without meeting the family, did you?"

For some reason, that didn't reassure him at all, but he didn't have time to protest. They were suddenly standing at the door to the console room.

"Right," the Doctor muttered, suddenly showing his own nervousness. Putting a smile on his face, he opened the door.

Seeing the tall, blond man standing in the center of the group, Melissa flew to him. "Brax!"

He gave her a crushing bear hug before apologizing for sending her to Earth so hastily. "I wish I could have restored you before sending you through, but you were being watched, Emma. I couldn't chance it."

Still reeling from seeing him alive, she nodded distractedly as her eyes swept the room. "Flavia! Teska! I can't believe it! You were at that school. Why didn't you tell me who you were?"

The two women smiled hesitantly, not sure how much the Doctor had already told her or how upset she would be when she finally understood. Just as Melissa realized that every Time Lord in the console room had been one of the teachers at the school, her eyes rested on the one person who was standing well away from the group.

Marching angrily to him, she poked him harshly in the chest as she vented thirty years of pent up rage. "You! What the hell are you doing here? You made my human childhood a nightmare! There wasn't a day you didn't make me feel like I was stupid and unworthy! And you made me feel guilty for something that didn't even happen! My parents were killed when the Daleks attacked Bandija Prime! And you're supposed to be dead!"

Borusa stood calmly, letting her rant until she was out of breath. Then, he disdainfully flicked an imaginary spot of dust off his red robes. "You were human, Emissary. By definition, that means you were stupid. And you are just as responsible for Gallifrey's fall as your bond mate. If you hadn't wasted precious time ferrying the Arcadians to Verona, you would have arrived well before the fifth TARDIS was stolen. It's your fault the Greater Plan did not succeed. It's your fault Gallifrey burned. You are nothing but incompetent and weak, and I do not understand why Lord Rassilon put so much faith in you."

Melissa had no memory of any of the events to which he was alluding. However, each sentence that came out of his mouth was like a physical blow. When the Doctor had explained how she had saved the children of both planets, he had made it sound like she had performed some sort of miracle. But Borusa had just informed her that the children's survival was no more than a small consolation for a disastrous mistake.

Horrified at what she had heard, she searched the faces of her friends and peers. Many of them refused to meet her eyes, and the ones that did looked all too sympathetic. Is that why they had allowed Borusa to torment her as a human child? Were they all so disappointed in her that on a subconscious level, they had wished to punish her?

"That's enough, Borusa."

The Doctor's warning came out as a harsh growl, and Jack was forcibly reminded of his friend's reputation as the Oncoming Storm. There was a fierce anger churning on the surface that he hadn't witnessed in this regeneration. Standing silently by the Time Lord's side, the Captain was very grateful that that anger wasn't directed towards him.

Borusa did not appear to be intimidated, responding almost immediately to the challenge. "I think not, Doctor. It's apparent that your wits have been addled by the years spent completely alone in your mind, or you would not allow such a freak like the Fact to be standing next to you. Why have you not yet unmade him? Surely, even a TARDIS as primitive as yours is capable of absorbing his past and future timelines. Considering that the Eye of Harmony is no longer available to recharge your ship, I'm sure he would make a good fuel."

Jack reeled. So the Doctor did have the ability to kill him after all. Although, the term "unmade" had a rather sinister ring to it. He had a sneaking suspicion that the other Time Lord was referring to something more profound than mere death.

He didn't have time for contemplation as Melissa lunged at the robed Time Lord, no doubt intending to strangle him. Considering their height difference, it might have been funny, except she coldly kicked his legs out from under him. It took the Captain and the Doctor to pry her off the frail looking man, who wisely didn't try to stand.

As Jack tightened his grip on Melissa's waist, the Doctor regarded his fellow Time Lords thoughtfully. Not one of them had made a move to interfere, and all stood before him, eyes downcast, varying degrees of guilt on their faces. Finally, Brax looked up, and without a word, helped Borusa to stand.

When he finally spoke, the Doctor's voice was clipped, cold and barely under control. "Does anyone else believe like Lord Borusa that Gallifrey's destruction was in any way Emma's fault?"

No one spoke, and he turned his gaze upon each and every one of them, demanding a response. When their turn came, they all responded with a no, although some, like Brax and Flavia, were more resolute than others.

"Good, glad we have that matter settled. Now, as to Captain Harkness. Yes, he looks wrong to you. Yes, he is a Fact. He is also my companion, and I will not tolerate anyone calling him a freak. He has saved my life on more than one occasion, and he suffered a year of agonizing deaths at the hands of the Master so I could defeat my old enemy. Captain Harkness will not be unmade. He **cannot** be unmade without severely damaging the Web of Time. You will treat him with respect, or you will answer to me."

As one, they mumbled their agreement, and the Doctor brightened visibly, his manner becoming friendly and animated.

"Right. Where were we? Oh yes, you were all waiting to see Emma. Em? Why don't you take everyone to my TARDIS and show them the wardrobe room. I'm sure they can find something more colorful to wear than those drab, black uniforms. Jack and I will catch up with all of you in an hour or so. We can all go out for a late dinner. We need to discuss some things before we address the students tomorrow. Besides, I'm sure everyone's tired of protein cubes by now."

The Doctor had given her plenty of time to compose herself, but it was difficult to control her anxiety. She wanted nothing more than to stay with him, but she took a deep breath and made the effort to smile. Only three of the fifteen didn't smile back, so she counted that as a victory. With all the nonchalance she could muster, she led the group outside.

Left alone with Jack and Borusa, the Doctor focused on his breathing while he tried to calm down. He hadn't expected the confrontation to come so quickly, but he was relieved that it was over. Being the last of the Time Lords for a few centuries, he had let his memory become selective, forgetting how vicious Gallifreyan politics could be.

"You're showing your age, Doctor. Surely such a trivial disagreement shouldn't affect you so much. I'm sure your brother would be happy to take the burden of leadership away from you."

"That didn't work when we were children, and it's not going to work now, Borusa," the Doctor answered tiredly. "If Brax wants to lead them, I'm not going to stop him. Actually, I would thank him."

"Ah, you're the same Doctor I remember then, shunning responsibility in favor of selfish gratification."

Jack had been trying to keep silent, but that description of the Doctor's character drove him to speak. "It's obvious you don't know the Doctor at all."

Borusa stared at the Captain for several seconds, revulsion plainly written on his face. "I've known the Doctor since he was eight years old. I taught him. I challenged him. I tried to mold him, but I failed miserably. All that potential wasted, merely because he refused to see that the end justified the means."

Deliberately, the Doctor stepped up to his former teacher, lightly laying his hands on the old man's face. The stood unmoving for several minutes until the Doctor just as deliberately removed his hands. Hastily, Borusa took a few steps backward in obvious retreat.

"I see the Time War forged you in ways I hadn't dared dream. What a leader you could become, you with your army of eager, young Time Lords. You could remake the cosmos into one of peace and stability, and at its center a new Gallifrey. You could be as revered as the great Lord Rassilon himself."

"That isn't going to work either, Borusa. I showed you what I had done so you could understand why I refuse to take up arms again, no matter what the cause. Gallifrey is gone; the Daleks are destroyed; and there are five thousand, seven hundred sixty-seven Time Lords left alive to guard the Web of Time. I have no interest in rebuilding an empire."

"Perhaps you're right, Doctor," he finally said with a sigh. "Perhaps it is time to let the dream of Gallifrey die. A shame though."

He deliberately paused a moment before continuing in a patronizing tone. "After your spectacular defeat at Arcadia, and your inability to maintain the transduction barrier around our planet, I can understand why you would be too afraid to face such failure again. I couldn't help but think, however, that restoring the Time Lords to their rightful position might take away some of the sting of murdering all the people you held dear to fix a mistake you made in your fourth life."

"That's enough, Borusa. You can't possibly add to my guilt, so don't even try."

Intentionally, Borusa stared again at Jack, except this time, his expression was carefully bemused. "He has told you what he did, hasn't he? Or perhaps, I should say, what he didn't do?"

Jack listened in spite of himself.

"He had the ability, no, the responsibility, to kill the Daleks when they were first created, but he couldn't do it. Couldn't stomach the thought of genocide. Ironic, don't you think? The Doctor entombed Davros and his creations instead of destroying them, pushing back their development by a thousand years, all as a salve for his precious conscience. But in the end, he committed genocide against two races and caused countless others species to perish."

Irritated that he had let the man get to him, Jack snidely replied, "Your standing here proves that he wasn't successful, doesn't it? The Doctor's not a cold-blooded killer. Never has been, never will be. He did what he had to do to end a war that was tearing apart the very fabric of time and space. I was a Time Agent, and even we could feel the ripples of the Time War with our crude devices and limited understanding."

"Don't bother arguing with him, Captain," the Doctor advised tiredly. "He'll only twist your words. If you don't mind, I'd like to offer him the hospitality of one of your cells."

"Sure. I wonder if he'd like Janet?"

"Jack."

Hearing the admonishment in his friend's tone, the Captain turned businesslike. He assisted the Doctor in piloting the Battle TARDIS into the Hub, and then silently led Borusa to the cells. Placing the Time Lord well away from any Weevils, Jack provided him with water and a stale sandwich before engaging the door.

"He's a coward, you know."

Glaring at Borusa, the Captain bit his tongue, heeding the Doctor's warning. However, as he walked away, the old man called out. "And she's nothing but a pawn."

He couldn't help himself; he spun around. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

Extremely satisfied, Borusa allowed himself a smile. "So you do care for her. Your emotions will be your undoing, Fact. She's nothing more than a means to an end, and like all good pawns, she'll meet a pawn's fate."

His hands bunched into fists, Jack stared at Borusa, hoping to see some telltale sign that the man was simply goading him. However, the Time Lord looked far too smug for Jack to catch any hint of weakness. His emotions getting the better of him, the Captain retorted angrily.

"Not on my watch."

When his prisoner didn't reply, he stalked out of the cells as quickly as possible, his mind troubled by the Time Lord's taunts.

"That's what I'm counting on," Borusa remarked to himself as he watched Jack disappear from view.


	54. Dinner and Dancing

Author's Notes - Thanks to dwatlaskrhtcm and MaryMatthesen for reviewing the last chapter. And a big thanks to everyone still reading. The chapter's title is pretty self-explanatory. I have to admit I almost hated having to edit this one. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>As he waited for the appearance of the Time Lord elders, the Doctor helped Mickey check for any abnormalities in the Rift and beyond. He was concerned that the power wielded by Melissa and the Bad Wolf might have damaged the fabric of the universe, but after a systematic check, everything seemed normal.<p>

"So, no holes in the universe then, Doctor?" Sitting at his workstation, Mickey watched the Doctor analyze the data quicker than a human eye could follow.

Looking up from his calculations, the Time Lord had a relieved grin on his face. "None that I can detect, Mickey. We'll just have to watch for a while to make sure."

Wondering what was taking Melissa so long, he glanced at his TARDIS, and the veteran Torchwood operative followed his gaze.

"Must feel good, knowing some of your people survived."

"It's brilliant!" The Doctor beamed, his confrontation with Borusa already pushed to a dark corner of his mind. "By the way, where did Mr. Jones take the students? I'm looking forward to meeting all of them."

"They're at the Millennium Center. Wasn't anything scheduled there for the next few days. Gwen and Martha are helping him get hotel rooms for everyone, but it's going to take a while."

"I'm sure no matter where they end up sleeping, it will be better than stuck in the Void."

"No kidding. Wonder if the Cybermen and Daleks are still there?"

"There's a nasty thought. I hope not, Mr. Mickey, because if they were, then they're either dead or they've escaped."

A shudder went through the young man. He had faced enough Cybermen to last several lifetimes, and the thought that some might have gotten loose was depressing. The possibility that a few Daleks had escaped was terrifying, and he tried to put that thought out of his mind.

A few minutes later, Jack returned from the cells, obviously troubled.

"Don't let Borusa get to you, Captain. He enjoys being difficult."

"He didn't." The Captain spoke tersely, but it was obvious to both the Doctor and Mickey that he was disturbed about something. Trying to change the subject, he asked what was taking Melissa and the other Time Lords so long.

"I imagine it's taking some time to find the proper clothing. We'll give them a few more minutes before hurrying them along. Several of them were CIA agents, but I worry about the others' dress sense. No telling what they'll come out wearing."

Jack couldn't hide the grin.

"What?"

"I've seen pictures of some of the outfits you used to wear, Doc. I don't think they can choose anything worse than that scarf, or that coat of many colors you wore when your hair looked like you had put your finger in an electrical socket."

"Oi! The scarf was brilliant. And, the coat was, well, the coat certainly was distinct, wasn't it?" There was a sheepish grin on his face as he thought of the curly hair and outrageous coat that had symbolized his sixth life.

"Wish I had seen that," Mickey said ruefully. "Be nice to see a version of the Doctor that didn't attract the ladies."

Jack's smile grew, and he spoke knowingly to Mickey. "There hasn't been a version of the Doc who hasn't attracted the ladies. Even looking like an old man, he had female admirers."

"Now, wait, Captain, I don't think you can count Barbara as being one of my conquests. She was definitely attracted to that Chesterton fellow." The Doctor smiled, enjoying the banter as he waited with ever growing impatience for Melissa and the others to appear.

"No, but I saw surveillance pictures of the junkyard. That brown-eyed girl you were travelling with was pretty enough, although, she seemed kind of young, even for you, Doc."

In an instant, the Time Lord went from jovial to wistful. "That was Susan, and she was beautiful, wasn't she?" Looking intently at Jack, he confessed in a quiet voice. "She was our-my-granddaughter."

The grin faded from Jack's face to be replaced by understanding. "What happened to her?"

"She fell in love with a human named David. We were in London in 2150 during the Dalek invasion of Earth. She was so eager to use her talents to help rebuild the city and care for the survivors, but I knew she wouldn't leave me voluntarily. She thought I needed looking after, you see. So, I locked her out of the TARDIS and told her I would be back someday, but I never took the time, and now it's too late."

Mickey, who had been trying to keep up with the Doctor's explanation, asked reasonably, "TARDIS is a time machine, isn't it? Why can't you go back?"

Before the Doctor could answer, Jack spoke compassionately. "There was no Dalek invasion of Earth in 2150, Mickey."

When the computer expert only looked confused, the Doctor resignedly explained. "The Daleks erased that timeline in the opening salvo of the Time War. When it ceased to exist, so did she. That's one of the reasons the War was time locked."

Mickey couldn't think of anything to say, except that he was sorry, and the three men lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. The Doctor finally grew impatient enough to walk to his TARDIS. Finding the wardrobe room, he looked around in obvious relief. He needn't have worried about anyone looking out of place.

The men were all dressed in jeans and button-down shirts, and all the women sported black pants and tops much like Melissa's in various shades and slightly different styles. Not one of them had chosen to wear a coat. The only odd note was the fact that they were all wearing their black combat boots. He decided to not to point out that they looked like they had all bought their shoes at an army surplus store.

As soon as Melissa noticed him, she scooted closely beside him, her hand gripping his just a little too tightly. Her smile was plastered on her face, and she was obviously wearing it out of politeness rather than good humor. He wanted to ask her what was bothering her, but as she dropped his hand, she very clearly sent him a mental message that she would talk to him about it later.

"Anyone hungry?" he asked cheerfully as he watched Flavia put her hair up in an outlandish topknot.

His brother answered for the group. "We're starved, Bro, but everyone but me and Flav are going to play chaperone. Don't want anyone stirring up trouble the first night we're here."

"You worry too much, Brax. I'm sure they'll behave, and Mr. Jones is giving them their choice of takeaway. Surely, the rest of you have time to eat out."

When Braxitel answered, all traces of his California surfing persona were gone. "I wasn't speaking about our people, Doctor. The students have been sheltered from the outside world until today, and I don't want the humans taking advantage."

Seeing his brother was about to protest, he added hastily, "Besides, I thought it would be easier to manage with four at dinner. We have things to discuss."

Knowing all eyes were upon him, the Doctor casually leaned against a coral support strut. "Jack's reserved an entire café. We'll have the restaurant to ourselves. A crowd's not going to be a problem." Then, he wheedled with a half-grin. "Come on, Brax. The students are all adults. This is only a level five planet, and no one's bothered them so far."

"The Time Agent will be dining with us?" Brax's voice left little doubt as to his feelings about Jack.

The Doctor didn't like the fact that his brother was making such a show of prejudice against his former companion. However, he answered evenly. "Jack is the leader of Torchwood. His job is to assess objects and beings that come through the Rift, and that includes all of you."

"You mean, he might lock us all up?" The Doctor recognized Zelo as he spoke. The young man never could stay out of an argument.

"Borusa's the only one in a cell. And, when he decides to be civil, we'll let him out. However, Captain Harkness will be making a report to the United Nations about all of you. Before your appearance, Earth offered citizenship to any Time Lord who sought to claim it. Obviously, that was before they realized how many Time Lords were actually alive, and they will need time to reassess that offer."

"Doctor, are you implying that we might not have to hide among the humans if we settle here?"

At least Flavia seemed eager at the prospect. Glancing at the others, he was surprised to see how edgy they all were. Brax had mentioned that their settlement had been hidden; he suddenly wondered why they had felt the need to conceal themselves in the first place.

"I never bothered with hiding, even before I was an official citizen. I think you'll find humans are more tolerant than you expect."

A few snorted in disbelief, but the majority looked appeased. In fact, both Teska and Zelo went so far as to ignore Brax and invite themselves to dinner. When the Doctor warmly welcomed their presence, the rest quickly followed. By the time they had finally exited the TARDIS, all of the senior Time Lords were happily anticipating eating a hot meal.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dinner was a lively affair. Malcolm had arranged three tables of six, and the Doctor, Melissa or Jack each sat at the head of one. After every course, the newly arrived Time Lords moved to a different table, like an odd permutation of a progressive dinner.

Jack's table was always the loudest as he did his best to charm everyone he met. By the time the entrée had arrived, they seemed to accept him, and he inwardly relaxed. He had been afraid that they would see nothing but his wrongness, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that as a group they were not nearly as rude as the Doctor could be on occasion.

Melissa spent her dinner reminiscing about friends and family. If Time Lords had been able to get drunk on fermented Earth grains and fruits, then the evening might have devolved into a melancholy wake. But sober, everyone acted more nostalgic than sad. With a start, she realized that they had had thirty-six years to mourn, while she had had only a few weeks. The only jarring note to her evening was that not one of them expressed their sympathy over Susan and Matthew's death.

The Doctor's table was all business, and he hated every minute of it even as he acknowledged the need. Brax stayed by his side throughout as they discussed plans for the future. When the Doctor explained how Donna had discovered a way to grow a TARDIS quickly by shatterfrying the control matrix, discussion became animated. There was an air of excitement as everyone realized that it would be only a few years, rather than centuries, before they could be off exploring time and space once again.

By the time the chocolate cheesecake arrived, everyone was mixing freely, standing or sitting in small groups. Tired of talking about the past, Melissa walked over to Jack, who was telling his usual outlandish stories to a new, appreciative audience. Automatically, he put his hand around her waist, and she leaned affectionately against him.

The Doctor saw them from across the room and smiled to himself, glad that Jack was finally able to remember what had happened in the alternate timeline. Idly, he wondered if the Captain recalled what had happened when the timeline had ended. Had he felt pain, or had everything just slipped away, to fade to nothingness? Thinking of his granddaughter, he decided that it might be better not to know the answer to that question.

"Are you going to stand for that?"

Braxitel's testy demand startled the Doctor out of his increasingly poignant thoughts. He followed his gaze. Holding back a groan of exasperation, he attempted to answer calmly.

"I'm not eight, Brax. If I was bothered by it, I would do something about it. You may be my older brother, but I don't need your protection anymore, and Emma can make her own decisions."

Braxitel's desire to protect his brother and bond sister temporarily overrode his common sense. Opening his mouth, he unwittingly revealed far more than he had intended. "But can't you see how obsessed he is? How long did it take him to track her down? And how did he recognize her?"

The Doctor shrewdly stared at his brother, putting the pieces in place. "You aren't upset about Jack being a Fact. You're upset that he was a Time Agent. Are you going to tell me why that bothers you so much, or do I have to ask him?"

He held his breath, hoping the threat would work. He knew Jack would be unable to shed any light on his brother's odd behavior.

Making sure that they couldn't be overheard, Brax reluctantly spoke about something he had never intended to reveal. "I sent her out on a mission to investigate a time corridor that the Daleks had somehow created to bridge the time lock. She was able to collapse it, but she was injured and trapped on the other side. The Time Agency found her and took her into custody."

"I know all that," the Doctor said impatiently.

He had seen Melissa's memories, and had been horrified to learn that she had been tortured by the Time Agency for months. Then, it hit him; even reliving her memories, he couldn't say exactly what had happened to her, how she escaped or even how long she had been held. Suddenly apprehensive, he waited for his brother to continue.

"No one knows this part, Doc, because she was so traumatized by what had happened that I suppressed her memories."

"You what?" Outrage warred with disbelief. What Braxitel had just confessed to doing would have earned him exile if Gallifrey had still existed.

"I had to," he hissed, feeling his brother's censure. "She had the worst case of Stockholm Syndrome I've ever seen. She'd been tortured for ten months before the Agency did something to her so heinous that even he couldn't stomach it. He secretly broke her out, but it took her another eight months to get a message to the CIA. By the time I was able to extract her, she actually thought she was in love with that cretin."

"You're talking about Jack." His voice was flat as he asked for confirmation of something he knew in his gut to be true.

"He didn't call himself that, but, yes, I'm sure he's the same man. Can't be too far back in his timeline since he looks just the same."

He didn't bother to tell his brother that the Captain's timeline was much longer than he thought. Instead, he got straight to the point. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"No." The denial was out of Brax's mouth before his brother could complete the question. As the Doctor continued to stare at him critically, he added, "Ask the agent if you think I'm lying. He'll tell you what happened, or if he has any shred of decency, he won't."

"He can't," the Doctor admitted, hoping to get more information from his brother. "The Time Agency wiped two years of his memories. He has no idea that he ever knew her before finding her on Bad Wolf Summit."

Unfortunately, his admission had the opposite effect. "Good. Then he can't hurt her more than he already has."

"Brax."

"Don't push it, Bro," he snapped, lapsing back into the dialect he had picked up on the parallel Earth.

Before the Doctor could disregard his brother's advice, Braxitel left the table. Alone for a moment, he tried to convince himself that it was only coincidence that had brought Jack and Melissa together a second time, but it was a wasted exercise in futility. Every time he calculated the odds, two words kept cropping up in his mind. Two words, just two little words, but they trumped coincidence each time. He was beginning to fear the Bad Wolf.

As he was trying to decide what to do with the information he had just been given, Flavia asked him to mediate a dispute. Two of the Time Lords were arguing over who held the more senior rank. Knowing that both were at least eight hundred years younger than the others, he thought it was an extremely silly disagreement, and told her so.

"I know, Doctor," she replied with good humor. "But Stelan and Davokev were barely out of the Academy themselves when the Time War ended. Borusa treated them like nothing more than errand boys, and they clung to the tradition of rank to soothe their egos. Usually, they are content to have the same rank, but tonight Stelan is arguing that since he became a guard on the Castellan's staff two days before Davokev, then he is the senior."

Rolling his eyes earned a suppressed giggle from his longtime friend, and with an exaggerated sigh, he went to do her bidding. At first, the Time Lords in question took his advice as an insult, but after a few minutes, they saw things from the Doctor's perspective. Rank didn't mean much when there were less than six thousand of them left. It would be character and skill that determined their ultimate fate. By the time he was finished speaking, he had two very enthusiastic allies.

The dinner might have gone on until dawn if Malcolm hadn't politely kicked them out at two. By the time everyone made their way to the Plass, both the Doctor and Melissa were feeling extremely tired. Jack noticed what the others did not, and unsubtly suggested that they return to the Hub to check on their unwelcome guest. Only Brax seemed offended when they took the Captain's advice. Flavia and the rest bid them a good evening, making plans to meet at noon.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Cramming onto the invisible lift, the Doctor, Jack and Melissa chatted amicably about dinner as they descended into the Hub. A quarter of the way down, Melissa had a sudden surge of vertigo, and gripped the Doctor tightly to stay upright. Distracted by his thoughts, he gave her a brief smile, thinking that she was merely being demonstrative. Jack, however, had noticed the momentary panic in her eyes. Aware of his scrutiny, she gave a minute shake of her head, and he reluctantly didn't mention it.

The Hub was momentarily empty, but the Doctor craved the comfort of his ship, and Jack and Melissa followed as he made his way to the TARDIS. He led them into the kitchen, where Melissa automatically prepared tea and coffee, her actions habitual after spending so much time as a human. Gratefully accepting a large cup of coffee, Jack studied her as she infused the tea. She looked worn out, but more content than he'd seen her since Susan and Matthew had died. Taking a moment to look at the Doctor, he noticed his friend didn't look nearly so happy.

"Thinking about our guest in the cells, Doc?"

Startled out of his musings, the Doctor regarded Jack quizzically. "Borusa? Not really. He'll decide to be civil at some point." After that, he lapsed into uncharacteristic silence.

"I guess I should apologize for acting stupid and attacking that idiot." Handing the Doctor a mug of tea, she looked at him sheepishly.

"Nah, you just saved me from having to do it."

Almost choking on his coffee, Jack realized the Doctor was completely serious. When the Doctor noticed the Captain's reaction, he spoke calmly to his former companion. "I'm not a pacifist, Jack. And if anyone deserves a good uppercut, it's Borusa."

"I thought you only resorted to physical violence once every option had failed."

"Borusa's a special case," Melissa quickly interjected.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed immediately. "He's an insufferable bore who truly thinks his opinion is the only correct one. I can't believe Flavia, or anyone else, would cede so much power to him."

"Well, Rassilon did turn him from stone to flesh. I guess they thought he was acting on his behalf."

"Rubbish! He's the one who turned him to stone in the first place. I can only think Lord Rassilon took pity on Borusa when he realized that his plan to save Gallifrey would not succeed."

"I wish I remembered," she muttered.

Everyone had told her about her private meeting with Lord Rassilon. No one, however, had been able to tell her what they had discussed. She had refused to answer questions before injuring herself by leading the TARDISes to the parallel universe.

Intending to talk to them both about all the odd questions Brax had asked her earlier that day, she found herself yawning instead. After being human for so long, she wasn't used to being mentally aware of quite so many people. The stronger mental defenses she had had to employ were now giving her a dull headache.

"Bed for you, Sleeping Beauty."

Out of sorts, she griped even as she had to stifle another yawn. "I'm not a child, Jack. I don't think you should be telling me when to go to sleep."

"Who said anything about sleep?" He flashed her that grin that made her insides melt, and there were no reservations in his expression this time. Instead, there was a hint of mischief in his sparkling blue eyes.

"Time for some TARDIS maintenance," the Doctor announced hastily, practically knocking over his chair in his haste to leave.

Ignoring the Doctor's obvious retreat, Melissa sat in Jack's lap, playing with his braces. "We don't actually have to find a bed, you know." The effect of her sultry tone was completely ruined, however, when she yawned yet again.

"I think we do. The only question is your bedroom or mine?"

Letting go of his braces, she remarked ruefully, "I wish we could just go home."

He thought before answering, understanding what his offer would mean. "I've got a tenant in that house at the moment, but the house in Barry is furnished and currently empty. We could go tonight. See how it feels."

Surprised, she searched his face. He was looking at her uncertainly, trying to achieve the fake nonchalance that fooled so many others. Tonight, it only made his nervousness more apparent.

"Jack, are you sure? Because I don't think Ianto—"

He covered her mouth with his, not letting her finish the sentence. She struggled with her conscience for a half second before giving in. It quickly became apparent that they weren't going to make it out of the TARDIS. They might not have made it out of the kitchen, but Melissa implored the sentient ship, and suddenly her room was closer than it had any right to be.

Much later, she trailed her hand down his chest, a smug grin on her face. "I assume you noticed the sex this time."

"Well, you know what they say about assuming."

"Jack!"

She grabbed a convenient pillow and tried her best to whack the sly smirk off his face. They were both laughing by the time the pillow had fallen forgotten to the floor. Resting comfortably together again a few minutes later, Jack rubbed the scars on her back, thinking of how she had gotten them, still amazed that she had saved her people's future.

Lulled into a peaceful lethargy, Melissa couldn't stifle the huge yawn that came out of her mouth. "It must be getting late. I think I'll get a few hours sleep tonight."

His hand stilled on her back as he tried to hide his panic. "Sweetheart, you don't know what time it is, don't you?"

Reddening, she hastily answered, "Of course I do; it's just a figure of speech. I'm perfect. Didn't mean to scare you."

"Great, then tell me the time." Checking his wrist strap, he watched her forehead crinkle as she made an effort to concentrate.

Testily, she replied after a few seconds pause. "It's three forty-eight and thirty-eight seconds in this time zone. If would like for me to give you the time in the other time zones on Earth, I can do that as well."

She was correct, but the answer had not come automatically like it should have. Wanting to prove to him that it didn't matter, she changed her perception of time, ignoring the excruciating headache that immediately assaulted her. Carefully, she crawled over Jack, pressing herself against his back before once again allowing time to flow normally around her.

As cheerfully as she could, she whispered in his ear. "See, I'm perfect."

When he turned towards her, she could tell he wasn't fooled at all. A few stray tears leaked down her face, and he wiped them carefully away before concentrating on rubbing the tension out of her neck.

Relaxing as her headache gradually eased, she murmured, "There are five thousand, seven hundred sixty-seven more Time Lords that I can feel in my head, and that was worth any price to be paid. Please, don't make a fuss."

He didn't answer; instead, he moved his fingers upwards, gently massaging her scalp. Her breathing evened out within minutes, but he continued the massage until he was sure she was deeply asleep. Draping his arm over her back, he tried to calm his own mind, but sleep wouldn't come.

There were too many questions plaguing him that he couldn't answer. How badly had she been injured? Nothing had shown up on the sophisticated scans used by the Time Lords, but it was obvious that she had been affected in some way. He yearned to talk to the Doctor about it, but knew that consulting with him would be the definition of making a fuss.

Finally, he decided that the dizziness on the lift had been severe enough to warrant a discussion. He'd just have to hope the Doctor could be discreet. Untangling himself from Melissa, he slipped noiselessly out of the room. Once he was decent, he went in search of the Time Lord.

He found the Doctor in the media room, watching something that he hastily shut off before Jack had a chance to see what it was. "I didn't think I'd see you quite this early, Captain."

"I need to talk to you, Doc."

Jack's expression was serious enough that the joke the Doctor had been about to make died on his lips. Matching his companion's expression, the Time Lord waited patiently, trying not to speculate.

The Captain didn't know how to start the conversation without being blunt, so he didn't bother to soften his words with a smile. "I think there's something wrong with Melissa. When I asked her what time it was, she had to think about the answer, and she was so dizzy on the lift tonight that she had to hold onto you to keep herself upright."

For a moment, the Doctor's eyes lost their focus, and then, just as quickly, he was peering intently at Jack. "I take it you're here without her consent since she's currently asleep."

Getting briefly sidetracked, Jack looked bemused. "You can tell from this far away that she's sleeping? The last couple of hours must have been interesting for you, then."

The grim look on the Doctor's face softened. "Actually, no, I can't usually tell when she's sleeping or doing anything else from this far away, but I asked the TARDIS, and she was happy to relay the information."

"Okay." He quickly got back on track. "So, what are we going to do about it?"

Running his hand through his hair, the Doctor looked speculatively at Jack. "Do? There's nothing we can do but watch her, and you know it. So, what's really bothering you, Captain?"

"He called her a pawn." The words were out of his mouth so fast that he finally realized Borusa's taunts were bothering him much more than Melissa's physical deficits.

"Who did?" the Doctor asked sharply.

"That guy we have in the cells, Borusa. He said she was nothing more than a pawn, and she would meet a pawn's fate."

Abruptly, the Time Lord stood, pacing around the room. "She's the Emissary of the Bad Wolf, not the Pawn of the Bad Wolf, Captain. I think he was trying to rattle you."

"Ya' think? Then tell me how he knew to use her to do it."

"Don't underestimate Borusa. He's had thousands of years to study Time Lord behavior, and it's not that different from human behavior. Your body language most likely gave you away."

"So, she's safe. There's nothing to worry about?"

The silence became strained before the Doctor quietly said, "We'll watch her. I shouldn't underestimate Borusa, either."

"I can't say that's the most encouraging answer I've ever gotten from you, Doc."

"No," he confessed bleakly, "it's not."

They stared at each other for several seconds, each reading the other's frustration and fear. Knowing it was futile to discuss it any further, Jack briskly changed the subject. "I've got to go. The Brigadier and I are flying to Geneva this morning to discuss the question of citizenship with the UN."

His friend was more than willing to talk about something else. "I hope you can persuade them to at least extend the invitation. It will be ten years before we can grow enough TARDISes to send everyone out on their own. Earth would be a good place for them to learn about alien cultures."

All at once, Jack's usual optimism was in full force. "Don't worry, Doc. I think they'll be jumping at the chance to extend citizenship. The trick's going to be limiting expectations, and that's were Alistair and I come in." With that comment, he disappeared in a flash of light.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Melissa woke up warm and content, her back pressed against her bond mate's chest. "You know, if you're planning on showing me how perfect your timing is, Doc, you might want to take off your clothes."

Deliberately, she stretched, pressing herself against the flannel pajama bottoms he had worn to her bed. She smiled to herself. He was definitely ready to show her some moves.

His hand splayed on her stomach, he absentmindedly trailed his fingers across her bare skin. "You smell like Jack."

"Does that make you jealous or turn you on?"

He didn't respond right away, but when she stretched again, he caught her by the hips, pulling her closer. "Yes," he finally answered.

Then, he was in her mind, reaching places Jack could not. She gasped as she felt his passion reverberate on several dimensions, causing her to experience something she had almost forgotten existed. It didn't take her long to show him exactly what he had been missing, and they blazed together, their minds woven into one.

She gradually became aware of his tender kisses on her back, and realized that his hands were still firmly around her hips. Lazily, she said, "If you're considering an encore, I'd like to see your face this time."

Slowly uncoupling from her, he let her turn around, gazing devotedly into her eyes as he stroked her cheek. When her lips met his, he tried to forget the time, but it was impossible. After a few minutes, he reluctantly pulled away.

Gently, he asked, "Em, do you have any idea what time it is?"

Momentarily confused, she rubbed her head before bolting out of bed. "It's eleven-thirty! We're supposed to meet everyone in a half hour!" Running into her bathroom, she slammed the door, leaving him chuckling in amusement before he decided that he, too, needed a shower.

Twenty-two minutes later, they walked hand and hand out of the TARDIS. Scarcely daring to believe his good fortune, the Doctor paused to snog her senseless, only ending it when he became aware that their kiss had become something of a spectator sport.

"Hello!" he said cheerfully, noting wryly to himself that said snog had been witnessed by the entire Torchwood team, minus Jack, of course.

Ianto, Martha and Gwen stared at the Doctor and Melissa, not quite knowing what to say. Mickey, however, sniggered, thinking back to the conversation that he, Jack and the Doctor had had the night before. He certainly hoped Captain Flash was as confident as he thought he was. Looking at Ianto, he guessed that the couple was flexible when it came to monogamy, or she would have thrown the Captain out on his arse a long time ago.

To Gwen, Ianto looked somewhat taken aback. Outwardly composed, however, the archivist finally ignored the entire incident, focusing on giving the Doctor a status report.

"The Time Lords are now registered at various hotels around downtown Cardiff. They have each been given five hundred quid to purchase clothing and other incidentals, and are scheduled to return to the Millennium Center tomorrow morning at ten. If anyone asks, they are attending a weeklong IT convention."

"A convention? Splendid! I love conventions. All those booths and speakers and little free things people give away. Like key rings! Will there be key rings, Mr. Jones? Oh, wait, even better! We could have a buffet!"

Ianto looked at the Doctor blankly for a moment, his composure momentarily shaken. "No key rings, I'm afraid."

"That's a shame," he replied somewhat whimsically, although his humor flew past Ianto.

Then, with lightning speed, he was bidding everyone a good day and pulling Melissa towards the lift. Stepping on the stone, he gripped her waist, mindful of Jack's concerns. As they rose towards street level, they could both distinctly hear Ianto's voice and the laughter that followed it.

"He knows there's not really a convention, doesn't he?"


	55. It's Complicated

Author's Notes - Thanks to dwatlaskrhtcm for faithfully reviewing yet again. Believe it or not, there are only five chapters left to post. So, after this one, everything will begin to draw together fairly quickly. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Exuberant, the Doctor kissed Melissa as soon as the lift brought them to street level, and she was more than happy to reciprocate. They might have stayed that way for several minutes, but Brax didn't give them the time, whistling noisily and appreciatively when he saw them together. Breaking apart, the Doctor gave his brother an enthusiastic hug while Melissa embraced Flavia.<p>

It was only the four of them that morning. Since neither the Doctor nor Melissa had bothered with breakfast, they decided to start their meeting at the nearby Starbucks. Sitting at a cozy table in the corner, Flavia and the Doctor sipped their black tea, while Brax drank a mocha and Melissa blew on her chai latte, trying to cool it off. A plate of various scones and pastries sat untouched in the middle of the table.

It took them two hours to discuss the challenges facing them, and by the time they were finished, the plate was empty. The question of where to grow nine hundred sixty-four TARDISes was at the top of the list. Flavia took responsibility for that important task, telling them that she was tired of dealing with adolescent angst. Brax, with his outgoing personality, was more than happy to take responsibility for the young ones, especially when Melissa pointed out that they were hardly adolescents anymore.

"That brings up another point," Flavia began, clearly uncomfortable with the subject she was about to discuss. "While we were on the parallel Earth, the young ones were all students, and therefore not allowed to form bonds or bear children. How are we to regulate that now?"

Melissa stared into her empty cup, remembering how she and the Doctor had broken the first part of that rule when they were only sixteen. He must have been thinking along the same lines, because he gave her hand a squeeze under the table. Then, he turned his attention to Flavia, his face a picture of bemusement.

"That's not something you really want to regulate, is it, Flavia? It sounds like they've been living with archaic rules and regulations their entire lives. They know their responsibilities; let them enjoy living a little. There's nothing wrong with them starting families."

Embarrassed, the older Time Lord slowly shook her head. "I suppose you're right. Lord Borusa had devised a plan to ensure continued genetic diversity, but perhaps it would be wise to abandon it."

"Yes, it would." The Doctor emphatically agreed, not wanting to hear any more details.

There was an awkward pause, and Melissa attempted to fill the silence. "Any problems last night, Brax?"

"A group of five was arrested outside a dance club for drunk and disorderly conduct. Since they can't actually get drunk on Earth alcohol, I wanted to dispute the charges, but Mr. Jones simply paid the owner for the broken sign and then convinced the authorities to release them. They are restricted to their rooms today as punishment."

"Five out of five thousand? Doesn't sound bad to me."

"Actually, I was pleasantly surprised by how well they fit in. I'm cautiously optimistic that they will adapt to Earth fairly well. It's not a horrible place to wait for the TARDISes to mature."

"Maybe you could teach them how to surf," Melissa remarked with a wry grin.

"That would be awesome!" Brax grinned back, thinking that trips to California might make the ten years stuck on Earth somewhat more bearable.

They decided not to make any contingency plans, agreeing to wait for the UN's decision on citizenship. Flavia asked to see Cardiff, and the Doctor and Melissa were happy to play tour guide. They walked the neighborhoods, visited the Castle, peaked in churches, shopped the shops, and found a nice Indian restaurant that served a late lunch.

Conversation was pleasant, but superficial. Several times they were hesitantly approached by small groups, and each time the Doctor and Melissa were thrilled to meet the younger Time Lords. Often, the Doctor had personally known their parents, and always had an amusing anecdote or two to share. As soon as they left, however, he would lapse into a melancholy silence. No matter how many times he was told that Gallifrey's destruction had been a necessary evil, the presence of so many orphans only added to his guilt.

Brax and Flavia pretended not to notice, and after a few minutes, the Doctor would bounce back, talking a mile a minute on some random topic before the entire scene repeated as more and more Time Lords were emboldened to approach. Melissa tried to reach him with her mind, but his defenses were so thick that she only got a headache for her efforts.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

By late afternoon, Melissa was relieved when Brax announced that he and Flavia were due to meet the others at the Marriott. Bidding them goodbye, she led the Doctor to the Old Norwegian Church. The café was usually empty, and they both needed a break. Besides, there was someone she wanted him to meet.

Ordering two hot chocolates, Melissa sat beside the Doctor in the nearly empty café. The Arcadian was shuffling her Tarot cards at a small table in the corner, but Melissa knew the girl would approach in her own good time. Catching the Doctor's eyes, she lightly placed her hand in his, and suddenly, she was transported to his mindscape.

She was in the TARDIS again, the one that was white and flashy, and he was fiddling with the controls, doing his best to ignore her presence. Walking around the console, she stood behind him, watching him tinker.

"Is this your favorite aspect of the TARDIS? I have to admit, that's one of the things I didn't like about piloting a Battle TARDIS. No choice in desktop theme."

He finally looked up. "Everything was simpler when the TARDIS looked this way."

"I doubt that. You've just had more time to put it in perspective."

"Maybe you're right, but at least I wasn't the Destroyer of Worlds back then."

"We all do things we regret." As she spoke, she changed the scene, bringing them to the valley of Mt. Endeavor, the red grass sprinkled with purple Lexolian stranyth lilies.

Adding a comfortable bench, he sat down, plucking one of the flowers to give to her. "You've always liked these flowers. I should have known who you were when I went to pick your birthday bouquet in the TARDIS gardens and these were the only things blooming."

"TARDIS communication can be extremely oblique at times." Idly, she picked off the petals of the blossom, patiently waiting for him to speak.

Eventually, he took the shredded blossom out of her hand, and began to play with it himself. "You said we all do things we regret. What do you regret, Em?"

"I should have believed in you," she responded immediately. "You were right."

"We were both right," he countered, "but for all the wrong reasons."

"It doesn't matter. We're together now."

"With Jack."

"Yes, with Jack. Does that bother you?"

She felt the genuineness of his smile. "Nah." There was a hint of amazement as he added, "He really is an impossible thing, isn't he?"

Fondly, she teased. "He can definitely be impossible, but I would stop calling him a thing if I were you." Then, she added as casually as she could, "Besides, I know how much you care for him."

He stiffened. Suddenly they were back in the white TARDIS and he was pacing like a caged animal. "It's different; I can't-"

"I know," she soothed, hating even to skirt around what had happened when he was so very young. "But Jack knows the difference between love and obsession. Jack knows the difference between recreational sex and love for that matter. And if that bastard wasn't already dead, I'd kill him myself. We were all encouraged to experiment, but he's the only one who was deluded enough to take it seriously."

"It wasn't his fault." He snapped, the response ingrained by years of denial.

"It certainly wasn't yours."

He refused to look at her. Putting her arms around his waist, she rested her head against him, wishing that for once he would not blame himself for something that had been out of his control.

"I never thought he would hurt you, Em. I was naïve. I should have at least warned you."

"You don't get to blame yourself for that one, either, Doc. That was years later, and he had us all fooled. He hid his insanity very well."

"He knew how I felt, on the Valiant. He killed him over and over and over again, trying to get me to break."

"But you didn't."

"I would have. If Marshall had lived another day, I definitely would have. I told Jack that he had to kill Marshall for your sake, but really, I asked him for my own. Davros was right; I do use people I care about as weapons."

"Don't do that to yourself, Doc. You did what you had to do, and Jack was more than willing. Maybe you should try to explain a few things to him. You're not that blind; you know how he feels."

There was a trace of self-deprecating humor in his response, which she took as a hopeful sign. "As much as I'm sure you two would enjoy it, I haven't been that flexible since my first life."

Just as lightly, she replied, "Doc, no one's going to force you into something you're uncomfortable with, even if I think the two of you together would be amazing."

When he smiled, she gazed into his eyes, searching for acceptance. "Beloved, I never considered the consequences, but I can't pretend that I am unhappy. You are both the most courageous, caring men I have ever met, and I love you equally. That will never change, no matter what your relationship with Jack. But there are many types of love, and someday, I hope he understands exactly how you feel."

"Someday, maybe he will."

As she broke their mental connection, she was relieved to see a smile on his face as he took a swig of his now lukewarm hot chocolate. While she hadn't been able to help him with the guilt of unleashing the Moment, she was thankful that they had been able to have a frank discussion about their convoluted relationship. A tiny part of her was disappointed that the bond she shared with both men wouldn't result in a triumvirate. But she understood why, and was content to be the fulcrum.

Before they had finished their drinks, the Arcadian sat down at their table, her cards temporarily put away. She looked just the same, although she was wearing a navy dress instead of a purple one, but the Doctor wasn't fooled by her appearance for a moment.

"What are you?" he asked abruptly.

Melissa greeted the girl more warmly. "Please forgive him; he can be rude sometimes. It's nice to see you again."

"And you, Lady Emissary. I regret that your children's timelines were cut so short, and by our hated enemy, no less. Might I also offer my condolences on the death of your daughter. I glimpsed her briefly when you and the Captain took her to see the starlight. She was truly beautiful."

Subdued, Melissa blinked back tears. "Yes, she was. We named her Joy. It's a comfort knowing that someone else remembers her."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor interjected a little more forcefully. "But who exactly are you?"

The little girl regarded the Doctor calmly. "I'm a Verran soothsayer."

"There are no-you're Arcadian!"

"Yes." The girl smiled, and for a moment, she looked to be her apparent age, but just as quickly, her expression became grave.

"And you are the Doctor. I must admit that seeing you has never been in the cards, but it is an honor nonetheless. On behalf of my people, I thank you for ending a war that would have ripped apart the universe had it been allowed to continue."

"I couldn't save your planet." The Doctor couldn't understand how she could be thankful for what he had done; the Arcadians had suffered as much as the Time Lords.

"But your lady saved our future, just as she saved your people's future. I was most impressed by the Bad Wolf's display of power against the Shadow Proclamation, although I do wonder at her decision to send you all here."

When they looked blankly at her, the girl's expression became troubled. "Lady Emissary, you have warned your people about the presence of those who would wish them harm? I was able to trap the elders last night, but they are no doubt free by now."

Melissa's face drained of color. How could she have been so stupid?

"Em? Are you alright?"

"The Weevils. We have to warn them about the Weevils. We have to get back, find a way to contact everyone."

Dredging up her memories, the Doctor felt like he might be sick. He had never imagined anyone could have survived the time bombs, although survived was obviously a relative term. "We'll ring the Marriott, get a message to Brax. Then, we'll go to Torchwood. Give me your phone."

As he reached the hotel receptionist, Melissa grabbed both their coats and pulled him outside. He was actually able to speak to his brother, who assured him that he would warn the students; although it was obvious by his tone that he didn't think the situation was all that grave. Hearing the Doctor's half of the conversation, Melissa grabbed the mobile out of his hand and tersely informed Brax that a gang of Weevils had once come very close to killing her. He took the threat more seriously after that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As they jogged to the invisible lift, they met several groups of Time Lords wandering around the Plass. Taking the time to warn them, they were reassured when the young people held up mobiles and cheerfully informed them that Lord Braxitel had already done so. Turning down several dinner invitations, the Doctor and Melissa approached the entrance to the Hub at a more leisurely pace.

Preoccupied, he didn't notice Melissa's sudden vertigo until it was almost too late. As her perception tilted, so did she, and he pulled her back from the edge of the lift by her coat, holding her tightly to him when he realized that she was barely able to stand. By the time they had reached the bottom, she was limp in his arms.

"Emma? Can you hear me, Emma?"

She didn't answer.

"Martha! Mickey! A little help here!"

Ianto appeared behind him. "They're out. So's Gwen."

"Yes, well, you'll do fine, Mr. Jones. Follow me."

Picking up Melissa, he walked into his TARDIS, going straight to the infirmary. Laying her on the bed, he scanned her with the sonic screwdriver. He beat the device against the wall a few times before scanning her again. When he got the same results, he pocketed the screwdriver to sit beside her, gently placing his hands on her face.

Ianto watched the Doctor work, wondering what the Time Lord was actually doing. He was glad Jack had mentioned the whole "bigger on the inside" thing, or he might have run right back into the Hub. He was used to strange things after working for Torchwood, but a dimensionally transcendent police box was beyond his realm of understanding. In fact, he was so staggered by the complexity of the TARDIS that he almost missed what the Doctor was saying.

"Eighth drawer from the right, third from top—would you please retrieve the contents for me, Ianto?"

"Certainly."

He managed to answer with his usual aplomb, but when he pulled out the fresh stick of celery, his mind teemed with questions. He watched in puzzlement as the Doctor held the stick of celery under Melissa's nose, and then deliberately broke the vegetable in two. Immediately, her eyelids began to flutter, and Ianto finally decided that celery must be the Time Lord equivalent to smelling salts. He made a mental note to keep some in the refrigerator from now on.

"Doc?"

"Feeling better?" he asked optimistically.

"Maybe?"

Confused, she tried to sit up, but her head was pounding too much to manage it. Vaguely, she was aware of the Doctor talking to someone, and she definitely heard the word tea, but that's all she knew until he was supporting her back and encouraging her to take a few sips from the cup he was holding in his hand.

"Better now?"

"Somewhat." The headache was gone, but she still felt weak and shaky. Looking around, she realized they were alone in the infirmary. Maybe she had imagined another person.

He watched her closely as she finished the tea. Her face was much too pale, but she was sitting on her own and aware of her surroundings. Taking out his screwdriver, he aimed it at her head, somewhat disappointed that she didn't protest. The readings were the same as they had been the previous times.

"Do you have any idea how long you've been out?"

Not wanting to trigger another headache, she didn't even try to calculate it. "No. Do you have any idea what's wrong with me?"

His look became guarded, and she steeled herself for the worst.

"Actually, the scans say there's nothing wrong with you."

"Great," she sarcastically replied. "It's nice to know I'm making all of this up. Make sure you pick out a nice mental institution for me. I hear that standards of care deviate quite a lot from facility to facility."

"You're not going crazy, Em."

"Then what's happening to me?"

Hating the sight of the ceiling tiles in the infirmary, she walked briskly out of the room, not giving the Doctor the opportunity to do more than follow. She tried to return the cup to the kitchen, but every cabinet was full, and looking more closely at the mug, she realized it belonged in the Hub. She was about to stalk out of the TARDIS when the Doctor put his hand on her arm.

"I don't know what's happening to you, but you're not going crazy. We'll figure it out."

She refused to admit how much she needed to hear that, but the angry scowl on her face disappeared. "This is Gwen's coffee mug. I'd better return it."

"After that, how would you like to go to a restaurant? Jack's still in Geneva, but that doesn't mean we can't eat."

He was trying so hard to be upbeat that she couldn't help but smile. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Well," he drawled, "I could be."

"Does this mean you have money to pay?"

His smile grew wider. "Blimey, you're hard to please." Proudly, he pulled out his wallet. Behind the psychic paper was a wad of cash.

She made a show of checking to see that the currency was actually correct for the time period. "I'm impressed, Doc. Where'd you steal it?"

"Oi! I'll have you know I accessed my account. Thought it might come in handy sometime." Sheepishly, he added, "I may have withdrawn too much. All of it wouldn't fit in my wallet. There's a box in the attic stuffed full of the excess."

Choosing not to tease him about that, she asked, "Does this mean you've actually planned and chosen a restaurant?"

"Uh, not as such, I mean, not actually . . . ." Seeing how she enjoyed his discomfort, he threw the question back at her. "I thought you might like to choose?"

"Could we go to Gourmet Burger? I could really go for a burger and chips, and a Coke, maybe two Cokes. I need some sugar. Oh! Maybe we could have ice cream afterwards."

It was his turn to tease. "You know, you're a very cheap date."

She was too excited to care. "But, it's a date. We haven't been on a date since—"

"Since the Wooden Era of CydrylSix."

Walking out of the TARDIS, she argued good naturedly. "That doesn't count as a date. We were thrown in jail. You can't count it as a date when the evening ends with your hands tied behind your back."

Following her into the Hub, he grinned wickedly at her. "I'm not too sure about that. Think I'll have to get an unbiased opinion. Should I ask the Captain what he thinks about evenings like that?"

That earned him a finger poke to the chest and a kiss. They walked blithely through the Hub, returning Gwen's mug, barely aware of Ianto and Martha's presence. Melissa pretended not to notice when the Doctor purposefully walked her to the tourist entrance. She didn't want to take the lift, either.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Returning from Geneva late that night, Jack had hoped to spend some quiet time with Melissa after a day of raucous debate at the Security Council. He should have known better. As soon as he appeared in the Hub, the Doctor asked him to accompany him to the TARDIS.

Thinking that he merely wanted to know the UN's decision, Jack began to brief his friend about the issue of citizenship. The Doctor let him finish before sitting him down to discuss Melissa's collapse. At the end, he just sat there dumbly, not knowing what to say. He knew the Doctor hated the situation as much as he did, but there wasn't anything they could do but be vigilant, and keep her away from heights.

Worried, he intended to search for her—the Doctor had said she was liberating a few musical instruments from the archives—but Martha stopped him before he could make it past the medical bay.

"That Time Lord you've locked up is complaining about the food. I think his exact words were, 'Earth cuisine tastes like excrement'. He's asking for a protein cube."

He wanted to tell Martha that Borusa could shove it, but instead he promised to talk to the Doctor about finding some protein cubes tomorrow. When he mentioned the Doctor, however, she got such a funny look on her face that he asked what was wrong.

"So, you and the Doctor talked, and you're okay with it?"

Thinking back on their conversation, he couldn't come up with a single topic that might fit Martha's question. "Okay with what?"

Suddenly, she looked uncomfortable. "Maybe I shouldn't say."

He grinned to let her know he wasn't going to let it drop. "Oh no, you don't get out of it that easily, Martha Jones. What's the Doctor proposed to do this time? Destroy all the weapons in the secure armory? Free the Weevils? Advertise Torchwood on buses? What?"

"It's nothing like that, Jack. It's just, well, he and Melissa enjoyed a really good snog. Twice."

He beamed. That was the best news he'd heard all day. "Good for them!"

She looked at him like he had just gone insane. "So, that doesn't bother you? Isn't she your wife?"

"She is. She's—it's complicated."

"It didn't look all that complicated. It looks like she gets to have her cake and eat it too."

Jack peered at Martha. "Jealous, Dr. Jones?"

"Of course not!" she hotly protested. "I have Tom. I don't think about the Doctor that way anymore. And I certainly don't fancy you. I know where you've been."

He didn't believe her for a second, but he didn't want to have that conversation now. Instead, he sympathetically asked, "Is Tom coming to see you this weekend?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "He's busy."

"I'm sorry."

She shrugged, and Jack decided that he was going to have to call Francine or Tish soon to find out what was going on. He wanted to give Martha some privacy, but not if it was going to impact her job.

He met Gwen next, and had to listen to her earnest lecture for five minutes. Bless Gwen, she really didn't understand fifty-first century mores, and never would. She was also convinced that Melissa was intentionally creating dissension within Torchwood. From experience, he knew it seldom helped to argue with her, so he politely, but firmly, excused herself when she finally took a breath.

When Jack almost bumped into Ianto, he was defensive enough to start explaining before the archivist could say a word. "Hold on; before you start, I might as well just tell you. Yes, I know the Doctor and Melissa kissed. No, it doesn't bother me. And, no, this does not impact us."

Ianto wasn't so sure about the truthfulness of Jack's third comment, but he simply said, "I was going to ask if you knew that your wife had collapsed. Our guest in the cells demanded my attention while the Doctor was caring for her, but she seemed well enough to go out to dinner with him a short while later."

"Fantastic! A snog and a date? When the cat's away, the mice don't waste time!"

The Welshman had no comeback for that. Instead he mentioned nonchalantly, "It's getting late. I think I'll go, unless you want me to stay?"

This was dangerous territory, and Jack knew he was about to disappoint his lover. As casually as he could, he mentioned, "I was going to check on Melissa; she's supposed to be in the archives. See you tomorrow?"

"Of course."

Ianto's reply had been as cold as liquid nitrogen, and Jack watched regretfully as the Welshman brusquely walked away. He had a sinking feeling that sharing was not going to be good enough for the young man.

Passing Mickey on his way to the archives, Jack noticed his smirk and lost his temper. "Geez, you'd think no one'd ever seen two people kiss before. Get over it, Mick!"

Mickey stopped in his tracks, but couldn't repress the smirk. "I don't have a problem with it. Sounds like you do, though."

"I don't!" Jack growled as he pushed his way past.

Reaching the archives, he followed his ears to find Melissa. She was playing a Himulii guitar, impressive considering it was meant for someone six fingered. Even more impressive was the song she was playing. It had been popular in the mid fifty-first century, and her voice sounded much better than the virtual band that had originally made it famous.

He clapped when it ended, and she looked up in surprise. "Jack!" Racing to him, the guitar forgotten, she threw her arms around him. "I missed you."

"That's not what I heard." Grinning, he leaned down to show her that he was as good as anyone when it came to a proper snog.

When they finally broke apart, he begged theatrically. "Please tell me those passionate embraces you and the Doctor shared were followed by some really fantastic sex."

"Preceded, actually, but it was pretty fantastic." She had a cat eating the canary grin on her face.

"Good, because I had no idea that two kisses could cause such a commotion."

She was suddenly on guard. "Did Ianto get upset?"

"Ianto, Gwen, Martha—I think the only one who wasn't upset was Mickey. I'm going to have to ask him just what he got up to in that other universe."

Guiltily, she apologized. "I'm sorry, Jack. He's usually not that demonstrative in front of other people, and everyone must have been watching CCTV for the second one."

"You don't have any reason to apologize to me, Sweetheart. How are you feeling? He told me about the lift."

"I'm a little tired, but I didn't feel like sleeping."

Then, all at once, she remembered what he had been doing all day. "What did the UN say about citizenship?"

"They're going to offer it to everyone with the provision that they agree to spread out all over the globe. There was some concern that having so many Time Lords in a particular nation would give that country a technological edge."

"Perfect!"

She began to return the instruments to their proper cases in the archives, but Jack took the battered flute she had been holding out of her hand.

"Leave it. How would you like to go home?"

"Could we? I really am tired, and I've never really felt at home in a TARDIS."

"Let me just check out with Mickey." Then, with a half-hopeful, half-teasing tone, he asked, "So, any chance of us needing a bigger bed?"

"Afraid not," she answered lightly, wishing she hadn't seen the flash of disappointment on his face.

"Worth a try." He spoke jauntily, but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

Reaching the main level, Jack and Melissa approached Mickey and the Doctor. His new tech expert was showing the Time Lord the latest version of Grand Theft Auto, and doing pretty well for someone who had been in another universe for several years. When Mickey hastily exited the game, Jack simply restarted it.

"Relax, Mickey, no one's going to report you to the boss for taking a break. You should have seen what Owen used to do while he was alone in the Hub."

"I have. Took me almost a week to erase all the porn off the server. Thought I might go blind." For the first time, Mickey looked unsure of himself. "You really don't mind me playing a few games?"

"As long as you're awake in case the Rift monitor goes off, why not?"

"Just, Torchwood on Pete's World was strict about rules and regulations. Wasn't a place to play games."

"Oh, I bet the office parties were fun there," the Doctor commented dryly.

Hearing Mickey speak about the other Torchwood reminded Melissa of a few questions she meant to ask him, but her head was hurting too much to talk. She felt peculiar, and when the room began to tilt soon afterwards, she wasn't all that surprised.

"Melissa!"

She had dropped like a stone with absolutely no warning, and Jack hadn't reacted quickly enough to catch her. While Mickey ran to get Martha, the Doctor scanned her with the sonic screwdriver. This time, the readings were far from normal.

Seeing Martha running towards them, he urgently called out to her. "Martha, I need you to take detailed readings of her cerebral cortex, especially the hippocampus. When you're finished, tap me on the shoulder."

As Martha ran back towards the medical bay to retrieve the scanner, the Doctor turned to Jack. "I think I know what's wrong, but I'm going to need your help. I need you to enter her mind with me to help her keep calm while I confirm a theory. Can you do that, Captain?"

Nodding, Jack did as he was asked, finding himself in a dark, gloomy hallway straight out of a Gothic house of horrors. There were at least a dozen doors lining the corridor; all of them were massive and made of a sturdy, dark wood. Ominously, they were also covered with chains, fastened with deadbolts, and barricaded shut, but even with that protection, they were straining to open. The wooden doors bulged, in and out, as if they were struggling to draw breath, and occasionally, he could hear echoes of screaming coming from behind the blocked entryways.

"Oh, that is definitely not good."

Jack hadn't noticed the Doctor until he made his comment, but he watched in fascination as his friend aimed his sonic screwdriver at the bulging doors. For a few seconds, they stopped moving, and then they began to rattle violently. It was in the momentary silence that he heard a child crying.

"Help her, Jack."

Looking around the dark shadows, he noticed a figure curled into a tight ball in the far corner, as far away from the doors as one could get. Approaching cautiously, he imagined himself holding a lantern, and crouched down to have a better look. The figure was that of a girl, no more than four years old. She was wearing a long green cotton nightgown, and had a faceless ragdoll clutched in her hands. It was obvious that she was terrified.

"Hello, Sweetheart. What's wrong?" Knowing how fragile Melissa's psyche must be for her to appear so young, he did his best not to frighten her.

The little red haired girl looked up at him apprehensively. "You're a stranger. I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

Carefully, Jack sat down next to her. "My name's Jack. I can't be a stranger if you know my name. What's your name?"

"I don't have a name," she answered with a trembling lip. "They took it, and I don't get to pick a new one 'til I'm eight."

"What would you like to be called, then, Sweetheart?"

She had been crying, and he took a handkerchief out of his pocket so she could wipe her eyes. She seemed to give the question of her name serious thought, and then she answered shyly. "My friends call me Ginger 'cause my hair is red. If you'll be my friend, you can call me Ginger, too."

"I'd like that. Ginger's a very pretty name."

Crawling into his lap, she became more animated. "Theta Sigma says he wants ginger hair someday. He thinks it's cool. But Koschei says it's ostentatious. Daddy doesn't call me Ginger; he calls me a disappointment, and Mommy says I should have been loomed. They never tuck me in at night. I'm too old, but the house is really spooky, and the doors are trying to open, and they're making too much noise, and that man over there is scaring me."

"Why is he scaring you, Ginger?" Soothingly, Jack patted her head, idly noting that her hair was more straight than wavy.

The noises from the locked doors became louder, and she cringed, putting her face against his chest. After a while, she peeked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared he's going to let the monsters out."

Jack watched the Doctor, seeing the intense look of concentration on his face. He was putting his hands up to one of the doors, but abruptly he jerked them away, as if he had been burnt. More cautious, he put the sonic screwdriver to the thick, wooden panel, and took several readings.

"That's the Doctor, Sweetheart. He's trying to make you better. You don't need to be afraid of him."

Suddenly, the door the Doctor had been examining began to crack, and the little girl began to wail. "He's making it worse! I don't want to see the monsters!"

Instantly, the Doctor was in front of Jack, issuing terse orders. "Make sure you keep connected to her, Captain. I'm taking her to the TARDIS."

Distantly aware that he was holding onto Melissa's arm as the Doctor carried her to the TARDIS, Jack focused on the little girl in his lap. She was sobbing and trembling, her face completely hidden. He comforted her as best he could, but she continued to cry, until, unexpectedly, the entire scene changed.

Jack was sitting on the floor of an ordinary, but familiar hallway of closed doors. The wooden ones with all the chains and locks were completely missing, and a very grown up Melissa was resting in his lap. She was dazed, blinking a few times as she tried to clear her mind.

"Jack?"

"Hello, Sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

"I—why are you in my mind?"

"You collapsed again. The Doc and I thought you might need some help."

He could feel her confusion and growing fear, and wasn't sure how to explain to her what had happened. She didn't seem to remember, and he didn't know if that was a good or bad sign. When the Doctor appeared next to them, she leaned over to hug him tightly, and Jack was relieved that he no longer had the sole responsibility for explaining.

"You're not going crazy," the Doctor affirmed, answering her unasked question. "But you need to rest. I promise I'll explain later. Right now, Jack and I are going to leave, and I'm going to put you in a very deep sleep. Is that alright?"

She looked at both of them before nodding, and Jack found himself in the console room of the Doctor's TARDIS. Melissa was lying on the floor, and the Doctor was removing his hands from her face. Martha was standing nearby, the medical scanner in her hand.

Shakily, the Doctor stood, using the Captain to steady himself. What he had done in Melissa's mind had exhausted him. "Take her to my room, Jack. I'll meet you in there as soon as I finish talking to Martha."

"You going to be able to walk that far, Doc?"

"I'll be fine, Captain," he snapped, and then he gave him a self-conscious half-smile. "Really, I'll be fine. I'm tired, Jack, nothing more."

"I'll take care of him, don't you worry," Martha vowed as Jack carried Melissa out of the room.

The Doctor's bedroom was only two doors down from the console room, and Jack wondered if that was the reason he had specified his bedroom in the first place. Laying Melissa down, he told himself firmly that she was merely asleep and not unconscious. Impatient, he walked around the room, picking up and studying various books and trinkets to distract himself.

He didn't have long to wait. The Doctor staggered in a few minutes later, leaning heavily against the nearest wall.

Jack had an insane desire to call him stupid and berate him like a mother hen, but all he did was quirk his eyebrows as he helped him to the bed. "Fooled Martha, I see."

"I'm glad I can fool somebody," he griped as he sat wearily by Melissa.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked up at Jack, who was worriedly studying them both. "Might as well sit down. This is going to take some explaining."

Jack sat at the foot of the bed, a few feet away from the Doctor. "Save your breath, Doc. I think I can make a pretty good guess. Those doors are memories Melissa has locked away, and she's terrified that they might open. What I don't understand is why they're affecting her like that. Last time, she simply remembered when it was time."

Leaning back on the pillows, the Doctor briefly closed his eyes. Jack had the gist of it, but he didn't have all the facts. "Gold star for you, Captain. Only, those aren't simply memories she's repressed. They're memories that have been intentionally suppressed by outside agents. Something's triggering them, and it's causing her acute mental distress. We were very deep in her subconscious, Jack. It's not surprising she doesn't recall what happened."

Jack was angrier than he had been in some time. Losing two years of memories still plagued him, and the thought that someone had been in Melissa's head doing the same thing infuriated him.

"There were a hell of a lot of doors in that room, Doc. Just how many people have been messing with her head?"

Rubbing his tired eyes, he wished Jack hadn't asked that particular question. "From the different mental signatures I was able to detect, I'd say three."

"Shit."

"The real question, is why now? Martha wasn't able to complete the scans before I took her into the TARDIS, and when we reached the ship, the abnormal activity in her cerebral cortex ceased."

"What made it stop?"

"I don't know. I don't even know what's triggering it."

"What happens if she remembers?"

The Doctor pondered that for a long time, thinking of the hints Brax had given him and her inability to recall anything about Arcadia or the end of the Time War. "I don't know, Jack; I really don't. Maybe there are some things best forgotten."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jack pondered the Doctor's answer. He had to disagree. Even with his long life, those two years bothered him. Knowing how the Time Agency operated, he had probably been an opportunist or worse, but he still wanted to know.

When he finally looked up to tell the Doctor just that, he noticed that his friend had fallen asleep. The Time Lord was leaning sideways against the pillows, his legs resting on the floor. Jack carefully straightened him on the bed, wondering when their lives would approach anything like normal. Thinking of the five thousand plus Time Lords currently residing in Cardiff, he guessed it wouldn't be anytime soon. Stretched out on the other side of Melissa, he thought about the future. Sometimes, it just seemed so damned complicated.


	56. Snapshots of the Past

Author's Notes - Many thanks to dwatlaskrhtcm and MaryMatthesen for their reviews. And, thanks to everyone else for reading. I plan on posting the next chapter tomorrow since I won't be able to update this weekend. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Jack stood backstage at the Millennium Center, nervously watching the Doctor and Melissa address the crowd of young Time Lords. Both he and the Doctor had suggested that Melissa stay in the TARDIS, but she had emphatically vetoed that idea. In the end they had consented, understanding there was no way of knowing when or if her blocked memories would rise to her consciousness.<p>

Even as Jack worried about her, he couldn't help being impressed by the events unfolding in the auditorium. He was discovering that the Doctor and Melissa didn't merely belong to an incredibly advanced, almost mythic race; they seemed to be legends within that race as well. When they had appeared on the stage, the Time Lords had stood silently as one, bowing deeply before erupting into thunderous applause. It had embarrassed Melissa as much as the Doctor, but he could almost sense their joy as they returned the young people's gesture and began to speak.

Briefly feeling insecure, he wondered why either one of them tolerated his presence, but then Melissa glanced in his direction, smiling tenderly. Whether due to the number of telepaths in the room, or the fact that he was thinking about her so much, at that moment he could actually feel her affection. He broke out into a wide grin. Their life would never be normal, but at times, it could certainly be fantastic.

She nudged the Doctor, and he paused mid story to call Jack to the stage, introducing him to the entire assembly. It didn't hurt that the story he had been telling was the story of the Gamestation. If it weren't for the UNIT troops guarding the inside and outside of the auditorium, a passerby might have mistaken Jack's entrance for a rock star's-the applause was that loud. For the first time in his long life, the Captain understood what it felt like to be shy, and he was relieved when he was able to retreat to the anonymity of backstage, where he listened to the Doctor's words with a growing sense of awe.

"Flavia tells me that every one of you have completed your studies with honor, and are a credit to the Time Lord race. In that, you have far surpassed my accomplishments. I'm afraid I passed my exams on the second try with a fifty-one percent."

He said it in such a pleasant, self-deprecating manner that the young Time Lords chuckled appreciatively, no doubt remembering some of the more outrageous stories of his youth.

Jack knew the Doctor naturally engendered trust and respect, but he had never seen how easily his friend could use that to his advantage, or on so large a crowd. With a jolt, he understood that if the Doctor wanted to run for prime minister, or president, or even king of the planet, he would have no need of the Archangel network.

Once the laughter had died down, his friend continued enthusiastically. "Although Gallifrey is gone, the entire universe awaits. We have four TARDISes with which to grow new ships to send you off to explore time and space, and believe me, you're going to love it!"

There was another roar of agreement from the crowd, and Jack decided that the assembly was more akin to a pep rally than a rock concert. The Doctor put up his hand for silence, seemingly self-conscious by the applause.

"Now, as I'm sure you're aware, it usually takes several hundred years to grow a single TARDIS. However, we have found a way to shatterfry the control matrix and grow one in just ten." This time, the audience went wild, no doubt anticipating the thrill of travelling.

When the noise had died, the Doctor spoke much more solemnly. "The people of planet Earth have been most generous in their assistance. The nation of Brazil has offered the necessary land upon which to grow our ships. The United States has volunteered the resources needed for us to build the outer dimensions, as have many others."

Pausing a moment for the suddenly silent group to appreciate Earth's generosity, he calmly made his most important announcement. "The United Nations has offered citizenship to every Time Lord present at this assembly. At this point in time, Earth is a level five planet, and I want each of you to understand the trust they have placed in you, and me, by making this offer. The humans aren't asking for promises of new technology, nor are they looking for an advanced race to serve as their rulers. They simply offer us a home, knowing ours was destroyed, so theirs, and millions like theirs, could continue."

There was absolute silence in the hall, and the Doctor paused briefly to let the crowd appreciate what was being offered. When he resumed, his voice was grave.

"The Time War started when my daughter was killed on this planet, and the last Daleks were wiped out just weeks ago above Earth's sky. I have always been fond of the people of Earth, but even I have been astonished by their selfless generosity. I have accepted their offer; my bond mate has accepted their offer; Lady Flavia has accepted their offer, as has Lord Braxiatel. It is up to each of you, however, to choose for yourself."

There was no applause; the young adults were all too stunned. Brax and Flavia quickly took charge, although the Doctor and Melissa stayed onstage. The assembly quickly became a town hall meeting. After the initial shock, the former students were full of questions.

When the Time Lord assembly passed the three hour mark, the Doctor had Jack quietly escort Melissa outside. She couldn't make a fuss without attracting too much attention, and so she found herself begrudgingly following him to the car park. She had assumed they were heading for the Hub, but he opened the passenger door to his car and gestured for her to get inside.

It was raining again, but that didn't stop Jack from speeding when he could. After a few sharp turns, she knew their destination, and couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach. They were finally going home.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The house in Barry was furnished with an eclectic mix of comfortable antiques, and appeared to have been decorated by a professional. The walls were painted in warm earth tones, and the shelves were filled with leather bound books and sepia photographs. The kitchen boasted all the modern amenities, disguised behind cheery yellow cabinets. It looked perfect, but it felt very empty.

Walking upstairs, Melissa peeked into the two smaller bedrooms, and had to swallow a lump in her throat. They were almost exact replicas of Susan and Matthew's bedrooms in Colorado, minus the canopies for Susan's twin beds. Jack must have had the house furnished before his confrontation with Gray, intending for her children to have a familiar place to stay during their visits.

When he came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, she started to cry. She wasn't even sure if she was mourning the loss of her children, or overcome by his thoughtfulness, or something else entirely. It didn't matter; he didn't press for an explanation; he simply put his arms around her.

"Sorry, it's just—"

"Yeah, I know. It hurts me to see these rooms empty, too. Come downstairs, I have something I want to show you."

He led her to a cozy library that functioned as a study and office. Taking a digital camera out of his pocket, he removed the memory card and placed it into a card reader. Susan's smiling face, the White House in the background, filled the computer screen.

"Where'd you find this?"

"In Matthew's backpack. I don't know what happened to their phones, but the digital camera had almost four hundred photos. I'd forgotten about it until yesterday."

Together, they sat down and went through the pictures. It had been Matthew's camera, so most of the D.C. pictures were of Susan and various classmates, but occasionally he appeared in them as well. Chillingly, there was a picture of the two of them with Tommy Frakes standing outside of the Pentagon. Tommy was in his blues, and the three of them were waving to whomever had taken the photo. They both choked up over that one.

Matthew must have been too busy to download his camera much during his senior year, because the pictures went back to Christmas. She and Jack had appeared prominently in many of those shots, but it was the one of the four of them together that Melissa liked the best. She remembered standing together in the snow waiting for the timer to go off while her son worried that the tripod wasn't level enough. He had been right; the picture was a little crooked, but even Susan was smiling, and with a little cropping it would look perfect.

There were pictures of the Doctor on the camera as well. Most were around Christmastime, but one was a picture of him and Donna in Manitou Springs. Donna had been laughing at some joke of Matthew's, and he had caught her with her mouth open. Her expression was so perfectly Donna, however, that Melissa printed it out immediately. The Doctor didn't have many pictures of her, and she knew he would treasure it.

"I don't know how to thank you, Jack. I'll add them to the photo album as soon as I can."

"Don't thank me. I should have given you this a lot earlier. It's just, with everything else that happened, I forgot it was in my coat pocket."

"I'm not sure I could have looked at them before now. I'm glad you forgot. Can we print a few out and put them on the bookshelf in the den?"

"Does that mean you like the house?"

She smiled, hurriedly wiping her eyes. "The house is perfect." Then her throat tightened. The house was perfect-for a family. With only two of them, its size seemed to mock her.

As he watched her tear up yet again, he seemed to know what she was going through. "It'll take time, but we'll make it a home. Besides, the Doctor has to park the TARDIS somewhere, and I'm not going to let him live in the Hub. He'd ruin Ianto's filing system."

"Yes, he would," she agreed, making an effort to be positive, but then, another wave of sorrow washed over her. "I wish we had a picture of Joy."

"Me too, Sweetheart. Remember all those pictures Matthew took of her? She loved smiling at all those goofy faces he made."

"Him and Ianto. I never saw anyone's personality change so much because of a baby. I think he actually enjoyed making a fool of himself."

"I wish he could loosen up a little now." Jack muttered, thinking about his most recent conversation with the Welshman.

Melissa, however, wasn't paying attention. She was wondering if the Doctor might be able to sketch a picture of Joy from her memories. She knew from Martha that he was a good artist, and while she could do a decent likeness, she was only moderately artistic.

As they edited and printed out photos, Melissa began to reminisce about her eldest child, and Jack eventually asked what she had looked like.

Clasping Jack's hand, she transported them to a valley of soft, red grass. Melissa imagined her daughter, and a beautiful woman appeared before them. She was tall, with blue eyes, a classical nose and mischievous smile. She was wearing a formal velvet dress the color of cranberries, and her ginger hair was pulled off her shoulders to hang in loose curls.

"That's what Athena looked like the night of her bonding ceremony. I think it was one of the proudest days of her father's life. She was so polished, witty and accomplished, everything he was not. Stav, her intended, doted on her. He was destined for the High Council, but neither the Doctor nor I liked to dwell on that particular fact. Still, if we had to have a politician as a family member, it would have been Stav."

The image wavered, to be replaced by another. Athena looked much the same, except her hair was pulled back into a simple pony tail, and her casual pants and tunic were made of wool. In her arms was a toddler of about three, the little girl's face a miniature version of her mother's, except her eyes were dark and her hair was brown and straight. Both mother and daughter were smiling.

Melissa started speaking, looking anywhere but at the image of her daughter and granddaughter. "Forty-five years later, they had Susan. By then Stav was proving himself to be more adept at politics than meaningful relationships, but Athena was content. She had no illusions that theirs was a love match, and found Stav to be more than a tolerable companion. When Susan was a teen, Athena invited us all to go to Earth. We suggested Greece to show our daughter her namesake, and she agreed, but Stav said he was too busy."

Jack's curiosity got the better of him. "You named her after Athens, Greece?"

"Well, the seer did, somewhat. I mean, we shortened it because . . ." Flustered, Melissa turned beet red. "We had some very fond memories of that city."

Immediately understanding, he couldn't help but guffaw, his grin as wide as his face. "You mean to tell me, you and the Doc named your daughter after the place where she was conceived? How old were the two of you? Sixteen?"

"I was twenty-five," she admitted defensively. Then, all of a sudden, she relaxed, smiling in return. "And at the time we thought it was very romantic. Ours was a love match."

"What happened? The Doctor said something about her being the first casualty of the Time War."

Immediately, the scene shifted, and they were standing near the Parthenon in ancient Athens. Melissa was dressed in her black military uniform, a weapon in her hand. Jack looked down to find that he wore the same uniform. He could see Melissa's daughter and granddaughter sitting on a bench with two people who could only be the Doctor and Melissa, although he didn't recognize either one. He would have to ask to see an image later.

The group visited the huge temple, talking and laughing jovially. The dark-haired man who must have been the Doctor spouted information like an ordinary tour guide. After an hour or so, they left, walking the narrow streets seemingly at random. Out of the blue, there was the sound of weaponry far too advanced for the time period. The statue in front of the group disappeared as a beam of light sliced near their path. Terrified, they raced towards a lone column that could only be a TARDIS.

As she ran, Athena must have seen something the others had not, because her last act was to push the Doctor out of the way of another beam. Hit, her body dissolved in an instant. The others stood motionless, completely in shock, but the attack ended as mysteriously as it had begun.

Experiencing Melissa's grief as she remembered her daughter's death, Jack comforted her as best he could. Once again, they were standing on the red grass of the mountain valley; only this time, his wife was clinging to him as if she feared being swept away.

"I'm sorry. You didn't have to show me that."

"I did. That was the first shot of the Time War. Besides, I think you deserve to know why he left."

"I don't understand."

He knew that many couples split up after the death of a child, but he had a difficult time believing the Doctor would just abandon her after something so traumatic. It had been obvious from the memory that they had been deeply in love, even then. It had been evident in the way they had held hands as they walked the streets, in the way they had smiled secretively at a joke that only the two of them understood, in the deep affection they had shared for their family.

Sniffling, Melissa wiped away her tears. "No one understood, Jack, not until it was much too late. Watch."

Again, he was transported to an unfamiliar location, and with a start, he realized that he was inside their home, or perhaps villa would be a more apt description considering the size. It was obviously after their daughter's death. Grief lined their faces, and they were heatedly arguing as the Doctor marched from room to room, picking up odds and ends and shoving them into a canvas bag.

"Stav promised the Council had nothing to do with it!"

Melissa gripped Jack's arm as she watched herself argue with the Doctor, wishing that she could change what was about to happen.

"Em, if you want to delude yourself into believing that Athena's death wasn't the result of an assassination squad, then you are certainly welcome to do so. I, however, am not willing to put our granddaughter's life in jeopardy."

"You're just being paranoid, Doc! There were no other Time Lords on Earth at that time! I checked the records!"

He turned so quickly towards her and his face was contorted with such anger that Jack balled his fist, forgetting for a second that this was no more than an illusion of the past.

"And I've told you time and time again that I could sense them! There were at least two Time Lords present. Besides, how do you explain the weapon? I've never seen anything like it."

"I know why you're acting like this," she said seriously, her voice raw.

"Oh, you do, do you?" The young Doctor's rage was barely in check, and Jack winced when he took a few steps towards the Melissa of the memory.

"You feel guilty. Athena died saving your life, and you can't accept that it was some random act of violence."

"It was by no means random!" He roared, advancing towards her until she had retreated against a wall.

Struggling, he managed to calm down long enough to speak rationally. "You and I both know that this was a planned attack by the Council to kill me. With the President so ill, there's been a power vacuum, and my enemies have finally decided to take action, never mind that it may just precipitate the very thing they are trying to prevent."

"You wouldn't—" she argued, suddenly fearful.

"No, I wouldn't," he promised quietly, pain evident in his voice. "I'm not that sort of a man. I thought you knew that, Em. But you don't, do you? You probably think I'm as mad as Koschei."

"I've told you I don't want to hear that bastard's name ever again! I was pleased beyond words the day he went renegade, and I hope he dies out there, alone! As for you, you seem to have forgotten that my name was taken just like yours and his, so I don't know why you're always assuming you're the one stuck with that fate. Besides, I don't believe the seer. She's crazy! And you're are too if you think that another Time Lord would try to kill you or Athena!"

Jack could see his future friend stiffen, taking a few steps back from his bond mate. When he spoke, the Doctor's voice was as cold as he had ever heard it. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Emma. I'm taking Susan to the capitol to see her father. Don't bother waiting up."

Turning away from her, the Doctor walked out the door without so much as a backward glance, and the scene shifted again. Figuratively biting his tongue, Jack pushed his questions aside to watch the next memory. They were in a spacious office that was decorated in modern, clean lines, the desk made of some sort of thin glass which served as a monitor. Information filled the entire desktop, and there was an imposing man in a red robe sitting at the desk, his flickering eyes the only evidence that he was alert, although his entire countenance seemed troubled.

When he glanced up, Melissa was standing in front of him, only she looked different yet again. She was average height, her short black hair cut severely, and she was wearing the familiar black uniform, except the insignia on her sleeve was different. She looked to be about fifty, and her eyes were extremely wary. As soon as the man noticed her, the information on the desk disappeared, and he gave her a strained smile.

"Emma! How good to see you." Briskly, he got up to give her a kiss on both cheeks.

"Cut it out, Brax. What do you want?" She looked bored, although Jack could feel that she had been very tense.

"Can't I just want to see my bond sister? It's been ages since you've come to the house to dine."

"It's been eight hundred fifty-seven years, eight days, ten hours and twenty-six minutes," she stated emotionlessly, clearly not amused.

"Has it?" he asked innocently. Then, becoming serious, he motioned for her to sit. "I need your help. The Daleks are planning something big, and none of my operatives are quite sure what they're up to."

"You don't need my help."

"Aren't you the least bit intrigued, Emma? We haven't heard so much as a whisper about the Daleks for a hundred twenty-seven years, and suddenly the chatter is off the scale. They're planning something, and no doubt it's going to be to the detriment of Gallifrey. Your bond mate keeps plaguing me to send a few agents out, and I keep telling him that I have sent all my active agents out into the field, but he doesn't seem satisfied. You know him, though, he doesn't accept failure gracefully."

"Brax, if this is some ploy of the High Lord President's to get me to see him, you can just tell him to forget it."

"My brother doesn't even know I've contacted you, Em. I've gotten a lead. There's an abandoned time corridor that leads to Earth, and all indications are that the Daleks are already there. I know that little planet is your area of expertise, and I thought you might like to accompany me on a short trip."

Interested in spite of herself, the Melissa of the memory sighed. "Fine, but only to prove to myself that I'm not too scared to step on Earth again. Where and when are we going, by the way?"

"Haven't a clue," he answered dismissively. "We haven't had a chance to do any tests. Originally, it went to 1980's London, but we think it's been altered. We could be there and back in a few minutes. Just let me change."

Before she could protest, he had disappeared, returning only a minute later wearing the same black uniform.

"Admit it; you were wearing that underneath your robes. You are the most arrogant man I have ever met, Brax."

The scene changed again, and inexplicably, they were in Ancient Greece, watching the same Doctor, Melissa, Athena and Susan of the first memory run down the narrow streets. Only this time, Jack could see from the other Melissa's perspective that a Dalek secretly pursued them. When the creature readied its final shot, Brax pinned the older Melissa against a wall, covering her mouth so she couldn't shout a warning. Horrified, they both watched Athena die. When Brax finally let her go, she was shaking and pale, and in no condition to run after the Doctor or herself to tell them what had happened.

Once he had let Melissa go, Braxitel swiftly shot the Dalek, disintegrating the creature much like Athena had been.

"This was fixed," he said unsteadily, still sickened at what he had just witnessed. "Change it now and it would cause a massive paradox." When she weakly nodded her head in agreement, he led her to their waiting TARDIS.

Jack thought he had seen the worst, but she had one more scene to play. Suddenly, they were in another office, the desk made of wood, the shelves filled with books and mementos from a hundred different worlds. A man with long brown hair and the sensitive eyes of a poet was sitting behind the desk, looking mournfully at her.

"Brax did the right thing, Em. You couldn't have warned me."

"But you were wrong," she protested, her voice shrill. "You could have stayed. Susan could have stayed. We could have been a family."

"We were both wrong. And I'm sorry you suffered for it." He answered softly, going quickly to her side to embrace her in a comforting hug.

Shrugging off his touch, she took a step back. "What's done is done, and you can't change the fact that you abandoned me."

"I know," he replied sadly before slipping on a mask of professionalism. "The assassination attempt was just one of the Dalek's attacks. There have been fifty-seven coordinated attacks to the time stream and sixteen outright military attacks on Gallifreyan interests."

Then, his mask crumbled, and he looked so stricken that Jack was momentarily tempted to offer him comfort, even if he was a memory. "Em, I'm so sorry for what I have to tell you. The Daleks targeted my personal timeline twice today. The second attack wiped out their 2150 invasion of Earth. The CIA was able to stabilize the Web of Time, but they weren't able to save Susan. She died when that reality collapsed."

The older looking Melissa stared disdainfully at the Doctor, although Jack could feel how devastated she had been.

"You seem to be quite good at destroying the things you love, Doctor. I hope you can do better with Gallifrey than you did with our family." Turning sharply on her heel, she walked out of the room.

This time, when the scene dissolved, they were standing on a vast plain of burnt grass. It was raining, and with a start, Jack realized that they were Melissa's tears. He didn't quite understand it all, but thought he had gotten most of the picture; besides, comforting her was much more important than satisfying his lingering curiosity.

"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart. I saw pictures of your granddaughter in a Torchwood file. She looked happy with him."

"I can't believe I was so cruel, Jack. It wasn't his fault, but I never saw her again, and I was devastated. I just wanted to make him hurt as much as I did."

Stepping out of her mind, he kissed her tenderly, wiping away her tears that had flowed into reality. "We all do things we regret."

She snorted mirthlessly. "I told the Doctor the same thing yesterday. I don't think it helped him, either."

"I bet it helped more than you realize. Let's go back to the Hub and see if we can't find those pictures of your granddaughter. We can put one up on the bookshelf next to Susan and Matthew's."


	57. Plan B

Author's Notes - Thanks to dwatlaskrhtcm for reviewing yet again. I really appreciate it. There are people who judge books by their cover art, and I'm sure people on this site who judge stories by the numbers of reviews. While it might not seem fair, it is what it is, and I'd like to thank everyone who's taken the time to leave a comment. Besides, I really do appreciate the feedback. It lets me know what worked and what didn't.

The last chapter focused on the past; I wanted everyone to know the Doctor's and Melissa's backstory in greater detail. This one is solidly in the present as you get to see Time Lords at their best and worst. Thanks for reading. I'll update again on Monday.

* * *

><p>As Jack drove with Melissa to the Hub, Ianto tersely informed them that a group of Weevils had invaded a cinema where a dozen or so Time Lords had been watching the latest installment of the James Bond series. In a squeal of tires, he changed directions, arriving at the scene six minutes later. They met Gwen, Martha and Mickey, who were reviewing their options from behind a police barricade thirty feet from the front entrance of the theater.<p>

"Status report."

Gwen responded immediately. "According to the manager, who was able to escape without injury, there are at least thirty Weevils inside. The theater wasn't crowded, and from other eyewitness accounts, the Weevils seem to be targeting specific people. Initially, twenty-eight, all presumably human, escaped through the fire exits. However, no one's come out in the last few minutes."

"They're targeting Time Lords." Suddenly, Melissa realized something. "Where's the Doctor?"

As Martha and Gwen shared uncomfortable glances, Mickey reluctantly answered. "He's the one who first reported the Weevils. We think he's inside."

Jack had to hold her back, or she would have run into the theater without a thought. "Damn it, Melissa! You are not going in there unarmed and alone!"

Barking orders, he took charge of the situation. "Mick, get the tranq guns from the SUV. Gwen, give Melissa a pistol as well." Glancing at Martha, he asked, "You armed?" Seeing her nod of assent, he quickly laid out the plan.

"Okay, Mickey, Martha, you take the back. Gwen and Melissa, you two have the front. I'm going to teleport inside. Wait for my signal, and then come in shooting. Tranq them if you can, but don't hesitate to use lethal force. Just make sure you aim to kill. Pissed off Weevils are not something you want to go up against."

As far as a plan went, it was as detailed as Torchwood usually got, and there were no questions. Jack took a step back, setting the coordinates on his Vortex Manipulator. As he was activating the teleport, Melissa lunged at him, and they both disappeared in a flash of light.

"Why the hell did you have to go and do that?" Jack hissed angrily, cautiously standing up to check his surroundings. They were in the men's lavatory, and it was thankfully empty.

Taking a huge gulp of breath, she forced herself up, trying not to grimace. She truly hated that teleport. "It was faster than arguing."

"Thanks for ruining the element of surprise, or have you forgotten they can sense you?"

"I hadn't forgotten," she replied, checking the darts for her tranq gun. "I was counting on it." Before Jack could grab her, she ran out the door.

Walking cautiously around the lobby, Melissa strained to listen to the smallest sound, but the spacious interior was quiet. Before she could investigate further, Jack had her right arm in a crushing grip.

"Together or not at all."

Since he could have teleported her away in that instant, she decided not to argue. Guns pointed in front of them, they swept the lobby before investigating the concession stand. It was all too apparent that something horrible had happened there. The case with the candy had been smashed, and there were thick pools of blood on the jagged edges of the glass. Popcorn littered the floor, and in one corner, the remains of a young employee gave mute testimony to the fact that the Weevils had not spared all humans.

Neither commented on the dead body in front of them. They didn't have time. A group of six Weevils suddenly appeared in the lobby, sniffing the air as if tracking a scent. They went straight for Melissa, and for once she was very grateful that their intelligence was lacking. They rushed at her in a sloppy, uncoordinated attack, and as Jack readied his Webley, she slowed time to a standstill.

Already trembling from the exertion, she aimed, fired and reloaded the tranq gun as quickly as she was able. She managed to fire five shots before the Weevils' time sensitivity enabled them to free themselves. When time resumed its normal course, five of the six dropped dramatically to the floor, harmlessly sedated for the next eight hours. The one that had not been tranquilized continued its charge, but Jack expertly shot it in the forehead, and it dropped dead to the ground.

Melissa, too, was on the ground, clutching her head, battling to keep what little food she had eaten that day in her stomach. Jack bent down to help her, but she waved him away. After a few seconds, she had more control, and was able to ignore the pain.

Watching her stagger to her feet, Jack gave curt instructions to the rest of the team through his earpiece. Mickey and Martha would now enter the lobby and make sure the rest of the Weevils didn't escape while Gwen watched the back. Without waiting to see if his orders were being carried out, Jack strode towards the wide hallway to the right of the concession area.

Jogging to catch up, Melissa wished she could spare the energy to reassure him that she was alright. She helped him check for signs of more Weevils, but the entire wing was deserted. There wasn't a Weevil, human or Time Lord in sight. Quickly, retracing their steps, they silently acknowledged Martha and Mickey's presence in the lobby as they crossed to search the other wing.

Evidence of the Weevil's rampage was unmistakable. In the first theater, seats had been ripped from the floor, but there were no bodies to be seen. The second was not so empty. Blood splattered the blank screen, and there were three bodies lying side by side. All three had had their throats ripped out. They wore no uniform, and it was impossible to tell if they were Time Lord or human.

Methodically sweeping the aisles, Melissa heard the groaning first. Racing towards the sound, she found one of the young Time Lords lying in a pool of his own blood. From the expression on his face, it was apparent that he was in terrible pain, but when he saw Melissa, he struggled to speak.

"Be . . . ware. Attacked. So fast . . . ."

Kneeling next to him, she assessed his wounds as Jack warily stood guard. His chest was almost crushed, and he was still bleeding out. It was only a matter of seconds before regeneration would take over, and she saw the fear in his eyes.

Holding his clammy hand, she gently reassured him. "It's going to be okay. You're safe. Jack and I aren't going to let them attack you again. Don't fight against the process."

Sensing the regeneration energy suddenly surging within him, she smiled encouragingly. "Can you feel it? It's already started. I'm going to back away a bit, but I promise I won't be far. Good luck."

Backing away, she motioned for Jack to do the same. The young man was too injured to stand, but his body began to glow, and suddenly it exploded in a shower of light. Shielding their eyes, they waited until they were once again encased in shadow to rush forward to see how he had fared.

Blinking, a handsome, ebony skinned man of about forty slowly sat up. His bloody clothes hung loosely on his more compact frame, and he looked around in obvious confusion. With Jack's assistance, Melissa helped him to stand.

"That wasn't so bad, was it? What's your name, by the way? I didn't have time to ask."

"It's—I'm not really sure."

"That's okay," she answered hurriedly, not wanting to distress him. "You'll figure it out in a day or two. Right now, we need to get you someplace safe."

He staggered on his own for a few steps, but when he clumsily tripped over his untied shoelaces, Jack had to steady him. Leaning against the Captain, he looked at him in wonder.

"You have got to be the most bizarre thing I've ever seen," he enthusiastically exclaimed, still in shock from his regeneration.

"I've heard worse," Jack acknowledged with a wry smile as he continued to drag the man to the entrance.

They were within sight of the lobby when fifteen Weevils attacked from behind. Melissa spun around, emptying her clip into the aggressive pack, but she ran out of bullets before she could target all of them. As Jack dragged the confused Time Lord towards safety, he fired his own gun, sending three more to the ground. Mickey downed the rest, running to their aide as soon as he spotted the Weevils. Handing his charge quickly to Martha, Jack raced back to help Melissa and Mickey.

Reloading their weapons, Mickey and Melissa watched for signs that another attack would follow. Melissa was concentrating so intently that she jumped when Jack touched her arm, smiling sheepishly in embarrassment. There was only one more theater to search, and they were all getting edgy.

Jack entered the darkened theater first, Mickey and Melissa following closely behind. A dead Weevil lay in the left aisle, several seats piled on top of him, but the rest of the large room was empty. A muted banging was coming from the back, and they all looked up to see a scared teen pounding against the small projection room window with his fist.

Quickly finding the stairs, Jack ordered the others to stay put. They waited with growing anxiety, but he returned in less than two minutes, carrying an injured Time Lord. She appeared to be in shock, and her right leg was definitely broken.

"Take her to Martha, Mick. I found her on the stairs."

Nodding, Mickey took the injured woman out of Jack's arms, grateful that she was thin and petite. Jack watched him run down the hall before focusing on the problem upstairs.

"There are at least ten Weevils outside the room, throwing themselves at the door. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were rabid."

"Not surprising, considering how much they hate us. If you can get me close enough, I'll make time to tranq them."

"Brilliant plan," he told her acerbically. "I think that'll work just as about well as when you got in the cage with Owen."

"It worked fine in the lobby." She argued with just as much bite in her tone.

"Ya think? You only managed five before they broke through that freeze frame trick of yours."

Blithely, she replied, "Well, you'll just have to shoot the rest." Without a backwards glance, she opened the door to the stairwell.

He grabbed her by the shoulders, wanting to shake some sense into her, but he managed to control that impulse. "The hallway's too narrow. If you aren't mauled, you'll be nicked by a ricochet or worse."

"The Doctor's up there somewhere, Jack. The longer we wait, the worse his chances are. Those Weevils aren't going away. What if they injure him like they did that boy?"

Incredulous, Jack asked, "You're worried about him coming out of this with a new face?"

Damn. She had forgotten he didn't know. "I'm worried about him being killed, Jack. He lost his remaining regenerations when I gave him my blood."

He gave her a look that said they would be discussing things later before coming up with Plan B. "Can you manage to keep me with you when you freeze everyone?"

"Yes."

They both knew if for the lie it was; she could barely manage by herself these days. Jack didn't contradict her, however. He'd already decided the best course of action.

Banging opening the door, he raced ahead of her, opening fire. He managed to bring down four of the Weevils before the rest were on top of him. As they mauled him, Melissa had no choice but to shoot them dead.

After a few chaotic seconds, she was the only one moving. Falling to her hands and knees, she shook violently as she crawled to Jack's side. Pushing away the Weevils' bodies, she tenderly wiped the blood away from what was left of his face. He was still conscious, but he was losing blood so quickly that she knew he wasn't aware of his surroundings. His eyes stared vacantly as she felt his life drain away. It was all she could do not to be sick.

The door to the projection room banged open, and the Doctor ran to her, ignoring the carnage. His brown suit was splattered with blood, but he didn't appear to be seriously injured. Fifteen people hesitantly followed him out of the cramped room, but they all stood respectfully a few feet away.

Uneasily, they watched the Doctor sit down beside his bond mate and take her hand in his. The two sat quietly beside Captain Harkness, seemingly oblivious to anyone else. After four minutes and eighteen seconds, the Time Lords watched in disgusted fascination as the Fact was pulled back to life, gasping and grabbing onto both the Emissary and the Doctor.

"I hate being mauled," he joked as he peered at Melissa and the Doctor, searching them for obvious wounds.

Melissa didn't say anything to that, but she did hug him tightly before poking him in the chest. "Don't you ever do anything so asinine again, you stupid ape!"

Giving him a hand up, the Doctor grinned, enjoying Jack's discomfort. "You're in trouble now, Captain. It takes a lot for Em to insult your species."

Remembering why he had allowed himself to be killed in the first place, Jack bellowed at his friend. "I wouldn't be in trouble if you had bothered to tell me you were out of regenerations, Doc. I would have known she was going to be reckless beforehand!"

"Reckless? Who was reckless? I'm not the one who bled out all over the floor!"

Abruptly, the three of them realized they had an audience.

"Yes, well, maybe we can have this discussion elsewhere. Captain, if you'll call the team in, we should probably dispose of the remains. And then, Martha should check everyone out. A few of them need medical attention."

At that his face fell. Quietly, he added, "There were several casualties, at least three humans, and two of the young ones are missing. I don't hold out much hope that they escaped."

Jack started relaying instructions to the team as Melissa assured the Doctor. "One didn't escape, but he did regenerate. He's a little confused right now, but Martha's taking care of him. There's a girl with a nasty fracture. She's going to need to spend some time in the infirmary."

Listening to the conversation, one of the younger Time Lords called out. "What's Bruno look like?"

Joining the group, Melissa smiled. "He's very handsome. Looks to be about middle aged for a human. He's shorter than he was, and his skin is very dark. I especially like his nose. It's very distinguished looking."

"No way!" A girl who was sporting a bloody cheek grinned when Melissa noticed her, then grimaced as her smile reminded her of her injuries.

"You'll all get to see him soon," she promised.

"Is Shayla really alright?"

"She's going to be fine. I'm sure you'll be able to visit her in the Battle TARDIS once she's resting."

It took another three hours to clean up the evidence of the attack. The Weevils Melissa had sedated were sent back to the Hub to join Janet in the cells. The projectionist who had witnessed everything was retconned, more for his sanity than for security, and the media was told that a terrorist group had attacked the cinema.

Martha tended to the cuts and scratches that the Weevils had managed to inflict on the Time Lords, but for the most part, the young people seemed to take it all in stride. All except Bruno and Shayla returned to their hotels to clean up and no doubt spread the story of what had happened. Bruno seemed much better after a strong cup of tea, but the Doctor had Flavia pick him up so he wouldn't overdo in the first few days of his new life. Brax drove Shayla to the Battle TARDIS camouflaged on the Plass. Her leg was going to need several hours with a tissue regenerator.

Seeing his brother and bond sister covered in blood had been quite a shock for Brax, and it had taken the Doctor a few minutes to convince him that neither he nor Melissa were seriously injured. Once sufficiently reassured, he listened without comment to the former students' account of what had happened. When one of them asked if it was true that the Doctor was out of regenerations, he blanched, but quickly suppressed his dismay.

"I think you'll find the Doctor is more than capable, no matter how many regenerations he has left." He spoke dismissively, and no one was brave enough to ask another question.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The Doctor let Martha tend to everyone else before he asked her to take a look at the back of his neck. He had a long slash mark that needed cleaning, but other than that, he was in remarkable shape. He had been the last to retreat, and a Weevil had taken a swipe at him as he urged everyone to climb the stairs. As Martha pointed out, it could have been much worse.

Gwen had the thankless task of informing the families of the victims about their loved one's fate. Mickey offered to accompany her, and she eagerly accepted. Since the Doctor, Jack and Melissa were in need of a shower and a change of clothes, Jack traded his car for the SUV, and sped towards the Hub.

The short trip back was made awkward by the silence until the Doctor began to babble about motion pictures and their history. By the time they reached the Hub, they shared a veneer of normalcy, although all of them realized that they had some explaining to do at some point. Slipping through the tourist entrance, the Doctor and Melissa strode to the TARDIS, engrossed in a discussion about the 1939 Oscar's.

Jack trailed behind before leaving them to retrieve some clothes from his office. Heading to the showers, he almost bumped into Ianto.

The Welshman took one look at the clothes Jack was wearing and asked impassively. "Your blood?"

"Most of it," he admitted as he deposited his clean clothes in the changing room.

Without comment, Ianto watched him strip, and then leaned against the entrance to the showers as Jack stood appreciatively under the hot spray. The Captain scrubbed himself clean before addressing his lover.

"Enjoying the view, or do you have something you want to say?" He didn't bother with a smile; Ianto always knew when he was faking it.

"Are you staying here tonight?"

Turning off the shower as a pretext to turn away, Jack briefly shut his eyes. "I can."

"But you weren't planning to."

Grabbing his towel, the Captain began to dry off, although he gazed at Ianto the entire time. The young man thought he was difficult to read, but Jack saw his emotions only too plainly.

"I said I could. The Doctor can stay with Melissa at the house tonight, and I can stay here." Then, getting testy, he finally answered the question. "And, no, I hadn't planned on staying at the Hub, but I don't mind staying tonight with you, if that's what you want."

Hurt, the young man became accusatory. "You don't mind? How nice of you, Jack. Do you make her beg for your attention? Or is this your subtle way of telling me I'm back to being just a convenient shag?"

Putting on his clothes, the Captain stilled, mentally counting to one hundred before replying. Even with the pause, it was all too apparent that he was irate. "Melissa never begs for my attention because she doesn't resent the time I spend with someone else!"

"Maybe that's because you're nothing more than her diversion. From what I see, she and the Doctor have an extensive history."

Fearing he had crossed a line, Ianto was flabbergasted when Jack chuckled. "Nice try, Yan, but that one's not going to work. You can't make me jealous of the Doctor, so don't even try."

His voice dripping with disdain, the archivist replied spitefully. "I forgot. You're still in love with the man who abandoned you in the future. Of course you aren't jealous of the Doctor. You're probably hoping they'll invite you to join them."

That was close enough to the truth that Jack flushed. Making a last attempt to salvage something from the conversation, he unexpectedly invaded the Welshman's personal space, kissing him passionately.

"You've never been convenient, Ianto. Don't do this, please. I'm happy to spend tonight with you, isn't that enough?"

For the first time, Ianto Jones failed to succumb to the charms of Captain Jack Harkness. "No, it's not. Ask me again when I'm you're first choice." Wordlessly, he picked up Jack's bloody coat and left the room.

Sitting morosely on a bench, Jack guiltily came to the realization that Ianto would never be first choice. He still loved him, and the thought that Ianto might not return that love anymore wounded him deeply. But, if he was entirely honest with himself, no one came before Melissa, and most likely, no one ever would. Not yet ready to confess that to his lover, Jack returned to his office. There were always reports to complete.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Clean once again, Melissa went in search of the Doctor, finding him in the console room directing Rift energy to specific sections within the TARDIS. Affectionately, she patted the ship, and felt the coral warm beneath her hand. Irrationally, she had thought the TARDIS might be a little moody.

The Doctor had been busy irrigating its reproductive center with enough nutrients to encourage it to bud profusely. The same thing was being done to the three remaining Battle TARDISes, and they were all grounded until they had produced nine hundred sixty-four viable buds. So far, the Doctor's TARDIS had been the only one to produce more than a single one. If the other TARDISes didn't pick up the pace, then it would be a very long while before everyone was assigned to a ship.

Looking up from his work, the Doctor smiled fondly. "Going to check on the unfortunate Lord Bruno?"

"I don't think he's that unfortunate, Doc. He's the first one of the students to regenerate. I'm sure he'll be very popular at parties for quite a while. If you must feel sorry for someone, feel sorry for the Lady Shayla. All she got is a broken leg."

"Well, I imagine she's enjoying her time with my brother. Most of the females seem to have a crush on him."

"That's only because they haven't gotten to know him," she said without thinking.

Putting down his tools, he looked at her quizzically. "What's he done now?"

Giving him a half-shrug, she admitted, "Not much, really. He doesn't trust Jack, and practically grilled me about my relationship with him, which I informed him was none of his damned business."

"Is he still bothering you?"

"I didn't come in here to discuss Brax," she replied, which didn't answer his question at all. "I came to ask you if you would consider sketching a portrait of Joy for me."

The sadness in her voice was enough to make him forget all about his brother. "Why don't I do that now? It shouldn't take too long, although I'm going to need your help on the exact details you want me to draw."

Leading her to the library, he found a long abandoned sketchbook and a fountain pen. Delving into her memories, he quickly drew a portrait of Joy's face. The baby had a happy smile and the Doctor managed to capture a hint of mischief in her expression. When he finished, he handed it to Melissa.

"She certainly was a charmer."

Teary-eyed, she quickly agreed. "Yes, she was. She definitely took after Jack in that department. Thank you. It means a lot to me, and Jack."

"Why don't we go show him, eh?"

Hand in hand, they walked out of the TARDIS, finding Jack in his office. The Doctor hadn't actually seen the Captain's office before, and was more than a little indignant when he realized that Jack was growing a piece of TARDIS coral.

"When did you nick that?" he sputtered.

"I didn't. I liberated it from the original Torchwood archives. Poor thing had been locked in a drawer for years."

Before the Doctor could get sidetracked, Melissa quickly showed Jack the sketch. It affected him as much as it had affected her, and he hugged her tightly as soon as he could bear to put the picture down.

"I can't tell you what this means to me, Doc. In a way, it helps make her real."

"I'm glad, then. I'm sorry her life was so short. I'll just go find a frame, and you can keep it in your office."

He had intended to give them some privacy, but Melissa wouldn't allow him to retreat. "We'll get it framed tomorrow. Right now, I could use something to eat. It must be dinnertime somewhere."

Neither bothered to tell her that it was close to seven in Cardiff. Instead, they shared a long look before animatedly discussing restaurant choices. When they went downstairs, they found that Gwen and Mickey had returned, and Melissa immediately invited them, telling Gwen to bring Rhys. At first Gwen begged off, but when Jack teasingly implored her, she agreed, calling her husband to have him meet the group at the pub. Mickey was more than happy to come along, and invited Martha, who was flattered that he had thought to include her.

Jack invited Ianto as well, but the archivist refused, saying that Borusa was sleeping and would need to be fed as soon as he woke. The excuse sounded weak even to his own ears, but outwardly he acted like nothing was amiss. Melissa and the Doctor picked up on the undercurrent of tension, and felt awkward, guessing they were partly to blame. They hid their uneasiness well, however, joking amicably with Mickey and Martha as they walked to the pub.

They didn't return until almost eleven. Mickey was slightly pissed, and Jack ordered him to take the night off. When Martha offered to drive him home, Jack almost teased her, but kept his mouth shut. If Tom was going to be an ass, why should Martha be lonely?

Rhys and Gwen walked towards the Hub with the Doctor, Jack and Melissa, so they could pick up Gwen's car. Rhys was in no condition to drive, but Gwen hadn't even had a glass of wine, which raised certain questions, but no one wanted to pry, yet.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Entering Torchwood from the car park, Melissa and Jack had planned to stay only long enough to bid the Doctor a good night, but as soon as she stepped in the Hub, she began to feel peculiar. Only halfway listening to Jack and the Doctor argue about the rules of lawn darts on the planet Uslish, she made it to the workstations before collapsing.

Racing to the medical bay, the Doctor retrieved the scanner, intent on completing the scans of her cerebral cortex. In the few seconds it took to return, Jack had gone deep into her mind, easily finding the dark hallway of chained memories. The doors were rattling fiercely, and a biting wind was driving down the corridor, buffeting him and knocking him to the ground.

Stunned by the intensity of the storm, he stayed on the floor until he heard the wail of a crying child. Pushing himself upright, he looked for Melissa, but the little girl wasn't in the corner this time. Instead, she was chained to the wall directly opposite the door that had cracked when the Doctor had attempted to analyze it. It wasn't rattling; it was groaning against the stress being placed upon it, and every so often, the crack would lengthen until it ran straight through the middle of the battered wood.

As Jack used a crowbar to try to pry the chains from the wall, the little ginger girl screamed, terrified that the monsters were finally going to get her. Just as he freed her, the Doctor appeared, and taking in the scene, frantically worked to keep the door closed. There was a deafening, splintering crack, and the fracture widened, spilling red light into the dark hallway and filling the air with the sound of distant screams.

Clutching the little girl to his chest, Jack sprinted to the relative shelter of the corner. Sliding down the wall, he sat with her on his lap, patting her back as she trembled. She didn't speak this time, didn't look at him once, but he could hear her sobs above the howl of the wind and the screams of her memory.

Suddenly, the Doctor was standing in front of him, his expression thunderous. "Get her to the TARDIS! Now, Captain!"

Instantly obeying, Jack picked her up, running to the Doctor's ship. As soon as he entered the TARDIS, Melissa's mindscape changed, and the hallway disappeared, replaced with a familiar room of closed doors. Only this time, the little girl was still hunched over in his lap.

Gently, he stroked her cheek, tipping up her head with his thumb. "I don't think you're supposed to be here, Ginger."

Wide-eyed, the girl looked around. "The monsters are gone!"

Jack made a big show of checking around the room. "Yep, no monsters here. The Doctor must have cured you. Why don't you go play?"

But she wasn't gotten rid of so easily. Sucking her thumb, she slowly shook her head. "I like it here. The monsters might be hiding in that scary place."

He smiled reassuringly, wishing he could convince her to leave, but knowing it would be dangerous to force her. She stayed on his lap, and he rubbed her back as she nervously sucked her thumb.

The Doctor appeared behind him just as the little girl relaxed to the point of drowsiness. Before the Captain could react, he put his finger to his lips in a gesture to be quiet. Kneeling behind the sleeping child, the Time Lord concentrated intently, and they were back in the dark hallway of Melissa's subconscious. The chained doors were silent, and the entire hallway had a look of benign neglect.

"Leave her there, Jack," the Doctor quietly instructed, watching with approval as the Captain tenderly laid the little girl on the floor. She stirred, clutching her ragdoll closer to her chest before turning over and snoring lightly.

Abruptly, Jack was back in the TARDIS. He still had Melissa in his arms, and the Doctor was leaning heavily against the console. Intending to put Melissa on the floor so he could check the Doctor, the Captain was stopped in his tracks by his friend's barely suppressed rage.

"Put her in my bed, and don't leave her alone."

Against his better judgment, he obeyed without question. As a few minutes turned to fifteen and then twenty, he paced around the bedroom, knowing something was terribly wrong. After a half hour, he nervously walked out of the TARDIS, hoping to find the Doctor long before Melissa woke.

On the main level, he saw no one but Ianto, who was tidying up before going home. "Have you seen the Doctor, Ianto?"

The archivist answered precisely, not a hint of emotion in his voice. "He's with the prisoner."

"Why?" Of all the possible places for the Doctor to be, Jack would have never thought of that one.

"I don't know; he had me replay some of the surveillance footage from the cells and then he ran downstairs."

Suddenly, Jack had a very bad feeling. "Show me."

When Ianto replayed the footage, he seethed. "That devious bastard!"

As he sprinted towards the cells, Ianto called out, "The Doctor's perfectly safe. Borusa can't get out."

"That's not who I'm worried about!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Staggering out of the TARDIS, the Doctor had stared at the results from Melissa's brain scan, trying to accept what was before his eyes. It was unconscionable, and only three people had motive. Since he had a feeling that the Bad Wolf was one of the three, that left two suspects. Only one, however, currently had access to the Hub.

When Ianto had played the surveillance footage, an icy rage had settled over the Time Lord. He had been manipulated into putting that man just where he wanted to be. Stalking off without thanking the archivist, he descended into the cells, ignoring the howling of the Weevils, who threw themselves against the Plexiglas as he hurried by.

Pausing at Borusa's cell, the Doctor watched him meditate for all of ten seconds before speaking. "Give it to me."

Opening his eyes, Borusa was the picture of innocence. "As you can see, Doctor, I am currently imprisoned. I'm afraid my personal possessions are somewhat limited."

"Don't bother pretending, Borusa. I saw it on the security footage, and the TARDIS is shielding Melissa. Hand over the neural agitator."

Lazily, the older Time Lord turned to meet the Doctor's gaze. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I will kill you if won't."

His threat didn't intimidate the other man. Instead, he looked curious. "Why do you care, Doctor? Surely one suppressed memory isn't that important in the totality of her life. Besides, I'm simply trying to free it. I must admit I don't understand why the device has not unlocked it already."

"That isn't her only suppressed memory, Borusa. What you're doing is dangerous to her psyche, and I want it stopped."

"Interesting. It seems the Bad Wolf hasn't done as good a job protecting her emissary as I would have thought."

Incensed, the Doctor tired of the discussion. Opening the cell, he advanced on Borusa, painfully bending the man's left arm behind his back. His voice never rising, he made the former president blanch.

"You've seen into my mind, Borusa. You know what I've done. You know what I'm capable of. Don't count on any lingering civility on my part to save you. She's my bond mate, and I will not let you hurt her again. You did enough of that when she was human, and if you don't give me the agitator, I will make you suffer before I kill you to get it."

Cowed, he was well aware that the Doctor was not bluffing. He hesitated only a moment, but it was enough that the Doctor bent his arm until it was out of its socket. "Still doubting me, Lord President?"

With his right arm, the elder Time Lord reluctantly pulled out the neural agitator and handed it the Doctor.

"Give me your word you won't try this again."

"My word, Doctor? Surely, you can't expect me to keep my word when it is given under duress."

Slamming the man's face into the far wall, the Doctor smiled grimly as Borusa futilely endeavored to staunch the blood flowing from his broken nose.

"I think you're going to keep your word, because if you don't, I will make sure some of the Weevils find their way into your cell."

The old man sagged. "Very well. I promise not to try this again. A moot point, really, when you have the device in your hand. I only ask that I be allowed to leave. My accommodations are somewhat lacking here."

"You'll sit here through the Third Great and Bountiful Human Empire if I have my way. You're not going anywhere."

"Now, Doctor, let's be reasonable. I tried and failed to do what Lord Rassilon decreed, but I was only carrying out his will. If you want to blame anyone, you should blame him for blocking her memory in the first place. I am an old man. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in this cell listening to the victims of Arcadia howl. Surely we can come to some sort of arrangement."

"You're staying in the cell, asshole." Jack walked cautiously into the narrow space, not sure how far the Doctor was ready to go to exact revenge. His friend's hands were balled into fists, and he was so tense that his facial muscles were twitching. Martha would have to see about popping the prisoner's shoulder back into the socket and setting the nose, but he wasn't going to wake her for something so trivial that night. Borusa could sit and wait.

The Doctor didn't even turn around. "You should be in the TARDIS, Captain."

"I'll go back with you."

"Jack."

Walking behind him, he spoke earnestly in the Doctor's ear. "She needs us both. Leave him. He's not worth it."

"He hurt her, Jack. He could have damaged her mind permanently."

"He didn't, and he won't. Come back with me. She needs us, Doc. What if she wakes up confused?"

"An excellent point, Fact. The Emissary's mind is disappointingly weak."

Borusa's words seemed to push the Doctor over an emotional cliff, and with a shout, he lunged at the arrogant man, intending to beat the life out of him. Jack, however, restrained him before he could lay a hand on their prisoner. As the Doctor struggled wildly to free himself, Jack tightened his grip, until his friend finally stopped fighting against him.

"He's not worth it, Doc."

Finally turning around to face Jack, the Doctor was ashen. "You're quite right, Captain," he managed to say before his knees buckled.

As Jack dragged his friend out of the cell, Borusa couldn't resist a parting shot. "He's just as weak as she is. When he remembers this day, remind him that he should have killed me when he had the chance."

Gently laying the Doctor on the ground, Jack walked purposefully to the haughty old man, punching him squarely in the jaw. As he fell in a heap, the leader of Torchwood grinned. He had derived enormous satisfaction from that one simple act.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Jack!"

Waking up with a gasp, Melissa rubbed her eyes, trying to get the image of her nightmare out of her mind. Jack had been eaten by piranhas, the vicious little fish devouring him until he was gone completely, never to return. The dream had been so vivid that it took her a moment to realize that he was lying next to her, his legs entangled with hers.

The Doctor was lying on her other side, and she struggled to recall anything that might have happened the previous night to precipitate them sleeping together in the Doctor's bedroom. Events after dinner were hazy, and she couldn't recall anything after walking into the Hub. Alarmed, she jerked upright, her hearts racing.

Woken by the sudden movement, Jack did his best to calm her, cautiously entering her mind to find her pacing outside the Arcadian bunker. She was dressed in black battle fatigues with a gun in her hand. He sighed in relief. While this was not a happy place for her to be, it was not an unusual one. Unnoticed, he slipped out of her mind and put his arms around her.

"Jack, I had a horrible nightmare. You were really dead."

"I'm fine, Sweetheart. I've been worried about you, though."

Not sure what had happened, she reluctantly admitted, "I don't remember anything after walking into the Hub."

"You collapsed again. But, this time, the Doctor was able to figure out what was wrong."

Glancing at her bond mate, she saw that his mouth was drawn into a frown, even in sleep. Tenderly, she began to smooth his hair until he relaxed enough for the frown to disappear.

"He looks exhausted."

"He had a rough night."

Apprehensively, she turned to Jack. "So, do I have damage to the hippocampus, or is the presence of so many Time Lords triggering a subconscious response?"

"Neither."

His anger at Borusa spilled into his terse answer, and she looked at him in confusion. Seeing her reaction, he explained quickly.

"Borusa had a neural agitator. We're not quite sure how he tapped into the internal security system, but every time you were in the Hub, he knew it."

She sat on the edge of the bed, her head between her knees, trying not to faint. Neural agitators were banned throughout the civilized galaxy, and most of the uncivilized parts as well. They didn't simply trigger memories; they stimulated the subconscious to the point that many ended up trapped in their own fears and nightmares. She couldn't begin to imagine why anyone who understood a Time Lord's mind would even consider using it.

"I'm going to talk to Borusa."

He didn't try to stop her. They both knew he'd be watching from the workstations anyway. Leaving the Doctor to his rest, she decided it was time for some answers.

The first thing that struck her when she faced her tormentor was that he was finally looking his age. It wasn't the wrinkled hands, or his stooped stance; it was the tiredness of his eyes. His left arm was in a sling, and his nose was bruised and swollen.

"Come to gloat?"

She thought she detected a waver in his voice, but whether a result of frailty or a deliberate ploy, she wasn't sure.

"You're bond mate seems to have overcome his aversion to violence. And the Captain has a good right hook."

"I came to ask some questions."

Wearily sitting on the small bunk, he regarded her with amusement. "Why do you think I would want to give you any answers?"

"Because there's something you want me to remember."

"My dear Emissary, if I could simply tell you, then there would have been no need for my tedious incarceration."

"You know, I can believe you were conniving enough to get thrown in the cells on purpose. The only thing I don't understand is how you let yourself fail."

A simple miscalculation," he admitted with a long sigh. "I had no idea the ship would protect you. You're not its pilot, after all."

"You've always underestimated the Doctor, and his ship. She's older than you, Borusa. I imagine she's more aware then she lets on."

"Perhaps you're right," he replied evenly. Stiffly, he brought his right hand to his left side in a clumsy attempt to readjust the sling.

Seeing his obvious discomfort, she couldn't help but be affected by it. "Why didn't Martha use the tissue regenerator?"

"The esteemed Captain Harkness told her not to."

Great, both Jack and the Doctor were acting like stupid apes. Maybe they would thump their chests the next time they saw her. She almost laughed at the thought, but knowing what the Doctor would do when he finally saw the injuries he had inflicted on Borusa sobered her immediately.

"I want you gone."

That statement seemed to genuinely startle the old man. "I must say that I never thought you capable of cold-blooded murder."

Idiot. Or was he toying with her even now? "I want you out of the Hub and out of our lives."

There was a flash of keen intelligence behind his feeble façade, and he smiled unpleasantly. "Perhaps you're cleverer than I thought. Don't want me sitting in the cells as a reminder to the Doctor of what he is truly capable of? You know, the Fact had to physically restrain him. I believe he might have sent me to my final death had that freak not intervened."

Biting the inside of her cheek until it bled, she managed not to react to his use of the word freak. Instead, she looked straight at the surveillance camera. "Send Martha down with the tissue regenerator. I want him gone before the Doctor wakes."

Two hours later, a fit and smug Borusa strolled through the Plass. While he had failed on the first attempt, the one thing he had learned from the Doctor was that there was always a Plan B. And now that he was no longer enjoying Torchwood's hospitality, he could figure out what that was.


	58. Restored Memories

Author's Notes - Thanks, as always, to dwatlaskrhtcm for reviewing. In answer to a question, I am writing a sequel, which I would be happy to post if anyone wants to read it. Enjoy.

* * *

><p>Finding Melissa in the archives, Jack sat down at Ianto's desk, playing with a few of the musical instruments that she had taken out of their display cases. He wasn't sure if she had noticed his presence; she was hunched over a mess of wires and the neural agitator, doing something that he probably wouldn't approve of. Plucking the strings of the Himulii guitar, he wondered how long she had been down there. He hadn't seen her since the night before.<p>

"_Stairway to Heaven_, Jack? Can't you play something a little more upbeat?"

"Nope," he answered placidly, randomly plucking chords. "Only learned the first part because a cellmate of mine was a Led Zepplin fan. So were the guards, if memory serves."

"No guard stories right now, Jack. I'm too tired. Let's find the Doctor and get something to eat."

"The Doctor's with Mickey at Flat Holm. He's trying to see if he can help any of the patients there."

"Did you tell him I tried?"

"Twice, but he told me you didn't have access to a TARDIS in the alternate."

"Neither does he right now. She really has gotten moody, but if I had produced five hundred twenty buds in three weeks, I'd probably be moody, too."

"I knew there was a reason I found him sleeping on the sofa this morning. I wish he'd sleep in Matthew's room. Do you think he would if we redecorated?"

"Don't bother. Once the TARDIS is able to move, he'll put her in some corner so he can pretend he's not actually living in a house, and everything will be fine."

"How much longer until that happens?"

Since the Battle TARDISes are finally starting to produce, I'd say three, maybe four days."

Nervously, she started to play with the soldering iron that was lying unused on the table. She knew what his next question would be.

"And you're still planning to go with Flavia to Brazil?"

"Yes."

She answered with more resolution than she actually felt. He had been trying to get her to change her mind for the past two weeks, and his arguments were starting to have some effect. If she hadn't already promised her friend that she'd go to Brazil to help set up the TARDIS nursery, she would have capitulated by now.

He tried one last time. "It's not going to make a difference, you know. Ianto's made it clear that he wants more than I can give, and you being gone a month isn't going to change that."

Tired, she rubbed her forehead before conceding the argument. "You may be right, but I promised Flavia. I just hate that I ruined your relationship twice."

Standing up, he rubbed her neck. "In the alternate, our relationship hadn't gotten much past the sex, and you know it. Maybe it's for the best. He was happy with Susan. Maybe all Ianto needs is someone closer to his own age. You gotta admit, I come with a hell of a lot of baggage."

Playing with his braces, she smiled fondly. "No more than me."

Before he could respond, she changed the subject. "I'm glad the Doctor's not here, actually. I wanted to tell you something, and I hope you'll be supportive."

Curious, he raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

Nervously twisting her shirttail, she explained why she had been staying so late at the Hub for the past week. "Martha and I've been working on a project with the help of a couple of the students. I've just adapted the last piece of equipment we'll need, and it looks like everything's ready. We just need a diversion to get the Doctor out of the Hub for about twelve hours tomorrow."

Her explanation intrigued him. "What could you two possibly be doing that he would disapprove of?"

Looking away, she muttered. "We're going to restore Donna's memories."

The Captain immediately sobered. "You have to tell him."

"We can't. He'd never allow it. The risk is slight, but there's always a risk when you modify someone's brain. We've talked to Wilf, and he's given her consent. He's going to bring her to Cardiff tomorrow on the pretext of a job interview."

"If something happens—"

"It won't, and he'll be too happy to remember to yell at us. He feels so guilty about what he had to do, and he misses her. You know that."

Hating to be the voice of reason, Jack pointed out, "I also know he'd feel even guiltier if something were to happen to her."

"I know," she said quietly. "But we're doing this for Donna, too. Wilf told Martha that she's been depressed, and we think that's a result of the memory wipe. Come on, Jack, wouldn't you take the chance to get your memories back, even if it involved some risk?"

"Of course I would." And with that sentence, he became part of the conspiracy.

"Good. I've thought of the perfect reason to get him out of Cardiff tomorrow. Fancy a trip to Ealing?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Martha and Melissa sat apprehensively in the Hub's medical bay, waiting for their patient to regain consciousness. Sarah Jane had provided the Doctor's diversion, asking him to take a look at the Zyloc in her attic, but Jack had just called to tell them that they were on their way back. With his penchant for speed, that meant that they would return two hours earlier than expected. They could only hope Donna would be awake by then.

For once their luck held. Donna Noble woke alert from her surgery induced sleep, her head full of memories and her brain altered enough to allow her to keep them. A Time Lord prodigy named Drocina had performed the delicate seven hour surgery, but she had been too busy to stay until Donna regained consciousness.

"Where the hell am I?" The DoctorDonna's first words elicited a snort of nervous laughter from both women.

Recognizing them both, she relaxed. "Martha! It's so good to see you!" Donna hugged the young doctor, delighted that she could once again remember her.

"What about me?" Melissa was suddenly nervous. Donna had all the Doctor's memories, but none of the time they'd spent recently renewing their relationship. She wasn't sure what type of reception she'd get.

"It's good to see-No way! Emma? I can't believe it! He must be thrilled!" Overjoyed, Donna threw her arms around Melissa.

Martha watched the two of them guardedly. "So, Melissa, I guess you and the Doctor really do go way back."

"Way back? I should bloody well think so!" Donna was about to elaborate when she saw Melissa's small shake of the head. Recovering, she remembered exactly what the Doctor had done to her, and began to rant.

"Where is that big Dumbo? I swear I'm going to regenerate him! Do you know what he did to me? Well, obviously you do, if you managed to fix it. You must have adapted my mind to safely contain the Time Lord consciousness, but that would require a Gallifreyan cyberknife, even if you could get the rest of the equipment."

Suddenly alarmed, she pleaded. "Where's the Doctor? He was dying. I remember that much. He had tried to contain the regeneration, and when the metacrisis occurred, he knew he couldn't complete it. He sent Rose back home with human him and took me back to Mum and Gramps. He was so weak, but he took the time to make sure I got back home okay. So, you two tell me right now, where is the Doctor?"

"It's okay, Donna. I managed to stabilize the current regeneration. He's fine. In fact, knowing how Jack drives, he should be here any minute."

Donna broke out into a knowing grin. "You two did this behind his back! Oh, I can't wait to see the look on his face!"

Martha and Melissa shared nervous glances. They really did hope the Doctor was too happy with the outcome to question the subterfuge. They didn't have long to wait, recognizing his voice as he and Jack descended into the Hub on the lift.

Not wanting to have the reunion in the medical bay, the three women quickly made their way to the workstations. Martha and Melissa stood on either side of Donna, and inwardly cringed when they saw the Doctor's expression of horror as his eyes rested on his friend. Maybe they should have had Jack warn him; no doubt he was thinking that her mind was about to burn before his eyes.

"Hello, Spaceman." Donna addressed him so tenderly that there wasn't any way to doubt her acceptance of what he had done or her forgiveness.

He was squeezing her tightly not a second later, his face transformed into one of pure elation. It was a long, enthusiastic hug, but finally Donna noted wryly that his bony elbows were digging into her ribs, and with a laugh, he pulled away.

Abruptly, all of his doubts came roaring back, and he studied Donna anxiously. "The metacrisis?"

"Fixed," she said confidently, and then pointed triumphantly towards Martha and Melissa. "These two are brilliant!"

But the Doctor didn't act like they were brilliant. Instead, he asked in an accusatory tone, "Just what the hell did you do to her?"

Martha shrank back, and it was left to Melissa to explain. "I rerouted the basic functions of the neural agitator into a Rassilonic genetics sequencer, and with a little restructuring of Donna's brain courtesy of a Gallifreyan cyberknife, her mind is now able to contain everything the metacrisis imparted."

"But," he sputtered. "But, neither one of you could have performed such a delicate operation!"

Martha finally spoke up. "We didn't. A Time Lord named Drocina did. She's something of an child genuis, from what I understand."

Intrigued, Donna asked, "Did she take into account the differential in processing rates between the human and Time Lord neural pathways?"

As Melissa nodded yes, Jack broke out into a satisfied grin. "Well, she still has the Doc's mind. Wonder how detailed the memories get? Hey, Donna, got any memories of the Doctor and Rose shagging?"

"I wouldn't tell you if I did, you prawn." Then she smiled appreciatively. "Hello, Jack. It's nice to see you're looking as handsome as ever. Fancy a snog?"

"Back off, Donna; he's claimed several times over." Her voice teasing, Melissa had meant it as a joke, but was surprised by how possessive she suddenly felt.

Donna stared at her, then at Jack, then back at her and then at the Doctor. Realization suddenly dawned, and her smile widened. "Oh ho! Good for you, Emma. At least you'll keep them on their toes."

Before anyone could react to her comment, she turned serious. "Where's Gramps? He must be worried sick. He does know it wasn't a job interview, doesn't he?"

Pleased that everything had gone so well, Jack led everyone to the tourist entrance. "Wilf's waiting at the hotel. Why don't we meet him there and get some dinner? We were hoping it might actually turn into a job interview, if you want. The Doc's sticking around for a while, and we thought you might like to, as well."

"Besides," Martha interjected, "they probably should talk to you about all the Time Lords roaming around."

"Time Lords?" she repeated in shock. "Just what did I miss this time?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Melissa gazed pensively at the wide, even rows of growing TARDIS coral. Everyone had worked hard, and they could finally see something for their efforts. She should have been celebrating with the rest of the team, but she didn't feel up to spending the evening partying with the young ones tonight. No, tonight she was counting the hours until she could return to Jack and the Doctor.

Not that it hadn't been fantastic. The first week had been filled with activity, as she and Flavia had trained the twenty young volunteers on the proper care and feeding of the emerging TARDISes. They had been too busy to do much more than work, and all of their spare time had been devoted to planning the transplantation of the coral buds into the prepared ground.

She had learned about her teammates as they toiled together, finding the recent Academy graduates to be somewhat shy in front of her. Their reservedness only lasted a few days as they quickly realized that she was more or less the same as they were. Suddenly, she was the big sister, aunt and mentor, all rolled into one.

That created its own set of problems. By the end of week two, she had been asked enough questions about regeneration, physical and mental orgasms, mating bonds, and the risks of natural reproduction that she was seriously considering recalling everyone who had been sent from Cardiff just to have a meeting about Time Lord biology. She and Flavia had laughed at the thought, wondering what could be given away at a convention like that one.

It had only taken a day to plant all the bulbs, and the third week had dragged as they waited to see if their efforts would produce results. Flavia had been blindsided when Warrick and Namara, two of the more hardworking volunteers, had announced her pregnancy. The former teacher hadn't even realized that they were bonded, since no formal ceremony had taken place. Melissa hadn't been surprised at all; they had asked the most practical questions about pregnancy, and none about mating bonds. She suspected that they had simply been waiting for their chance at a little freedom. So, she had done what any big sister would; she had thrown them a party.

She found the rest of that week to be surprisingly difficult. Namara worked closely with her in the lab, and chattered incessantly about her pregnancy. Since it was her first, each twinge, symptom or irrational fear became a discussion, and while Melissa was happy for her, she couldn't help being reminded of everything that she had lost.

By the end of the week, she bordered on melancholy. The Doctor was busy practicing diplomacy and parceling out Time Lords to various countries, and she had told Jack that she wasn't going to contact him while she was in Brazil. She still held out hope that he could salvage his relationship with Ianto, and thought that her absence might make that task easier.

When she politely declined Flavia's invitation to go into town with the rest of the team, her old friend had looked at her oddly, but didn't comment. Melissa was glad she didn't have to explain herself. Taking a blanket, she went to the hill overlooking the growing coral, spreading it out so she could look up at the sky.

It was dusk, and the sunset was beautiful, full of purples and vivid pinks and just a hint of fiery orange. As dusk gave way to dark, the planets appeared first, and then the stars put on an impressive show. There was almost no light pollution, and she could see the Milky Way in its vast, dazzling glory. It was humbling and comforting at the same time. More at peace than she had been all week, she closed her eyes, relaxing to the turn of the Earth as it waltzed in time with its celestial partners.

Half dozing, she felt a familiar presence approach, but she wasn't sure who it was. It definitely wasn't Jack; while his "wrongness" no longer bothered her, his temporal signature was distinctive and impossible to ignore. It wasn't the Doctor's either—his was more familiar. Curious, she stood up, trying to see if she could make out the figure in the dark.

It wasn't difficult. The Bad Wolf had a certain glow about her that illuminated the darkest night. Astounded, Melissa nevertheless stood her ground. The Bad Wolf had never appeared to her in its human form; it had always manifested itself as a presence in her mind. But the sight of something so alien in the familiar form of her friend sent shivers down her spine.

"My Emissary."

Her voice was odd, as if the Vortex ran through her vocal cords and spoke as Time personified. Melissa was mesmerized by the echo in her speech, and found herself to be unexpectedly mute. It was only when she realized the figure was crying that she found her voice.

"Rose?"

The Bad Wolf met her gaze then, and she knew instinctively that there was very little, if any, of Rose Tyler left in the entity. Behind the fiery eyes, there was no spark of human compassion, only confusion and regret.

"Why does it hurt?"

Against her better judgment, she asked, "What hurts?"

The Bad Wolf answered with echoes of the past. "I can see all of time and the whole of creation. You are tiny." Then, she paused, and when she spoke again, she sounded much more like the Rose Melissa remembered. "But your suffering hurts. Why does it hurt?"

"It hurts you?" Melissa wasn't sure she understood, but she didn't know what else to do but make the attempt. Although, she was really beginning to wish that she had gone into town with the others.

She could see the growing confusion on the Bad Wolf's face. "It hurts . . . all that matter. I want him safe, My Doctor. But why does it hurt?"

Frustrated and extremely tense, Melissa didn't understand the question any better after the explanation than she had before. She could feel the limitless power of the being standing before her, but knew from harsh experience that the Bad Wolf could not control the power she wielded. One wrong word and she might unleash that potential unchecked.

Her hearts racing, she bowed deeply to the creature that had given her a name. "I'm sorry. I don't understand."

By now, they were only inches apart, and Melissa watched apprehensively as the Bad Wolf slowly brought her hand up to touch her forehead. Sinking to her knees, she was assaulted by the memories unleashed. Afterwards, when she was alone again in the darkness, she thought she understood only too well.

_She was eight, and practically scared witless as Lord Borusa led the group of thirteen towards the Untempered Schism. Theta Sigma suddenly gripped her hand, swinging it playfully back and forth as if they were going to play rather than marching to an ancient ritual that would determine their fate. She smiled at him, thinking that only he would know to do something so silly to make her feel so safe. Koschei accidently on purpose bumped into her, and she fell down. Lord Borusa yelled at the three of them, and Theta Sigma gave her an apologetic smile._

_They would be going last, of course. Time Lords had a flair for the dramatic, and having three without a name in one year group was unheard of. Everyone wanted to see how they would react to the raw power of Time. _

_Going last meant you had to watch everyone else beforehand, and she was glad that tradition dictated a fast before the ceremony. Her stomach was in knots, and she would have thrown up if she had had anything in it. Most of her fellow initiates looked sickly green when they stepped back from the tear in the fabric of reality, and a few had even run away, terrified at what they had seen. _

_All too soon, it was down to them, the final three. Koschei went first-he always went first-and for once she was glad. He walked confidently to the schism, staring at it intently. She could sense the approval of the adults watching, until it became apparent that Koschei had no intention of stepping back. He had become mesmerized by the swirling Vortex, and it took Lord Borusa and his parents to pull him away. When he finally was aware of his surroundings once again, he loudly announced, "I am the Master." The adults applauded politely, but she did not. The newly named Master had been staring possessively at Theta Sigma the entire time, and she didn't like it a bit._

_Then, it was her turn. Nervously, she walked forward, squinting her eyes, afraid she would get trapped by what she saw. Only, what she saw astounded her. Opening her eyes wide, she wondered if she was hallucinating. Standing in front of the Vortex stood a woman, a very pretty, oddly dressed young woman with blonde hair and golden eyes._

"_Are you Time?" she asked in awe._

_The woman spoke, and she loved the sound of her voice. It was friendly and thoughtful and had just a hint of something powerful concealed beneath. "Nah, just borrowing her for a mo'. Wanted to talk to you."_

"_Me?"_

_The strange lady smiled, and her face became radiant. "You're the one holding hands with the D—Theta Sigma." Then, with a conspiratorial grin, she asked, "How long you going to stay with him?"_

_She confessed something she had never dared tell another living soul. "Forever."_

_That got a laugh. "Me too." Then, the woman showed a hint of nervousness, saying ruefully, "Might not be more than a couple of minutes, though. Feels like I'm burning inside."_

_She didn't know what to make of that answer, but the woman continued soberly before she could question it. _

"_I am the Bad Wolf. I created myself. I want him safe, and I think you do, too. Will you help me?"_

_Not understanding, she asked, "Who's in danger?"_

_The pretty lady whispered a name, and the Vortex reverberated as if someone had struck a deep gong. Smiling mischievously, her tongue poking out between her teeth, the Bad Wolf asked, "Now do you understand?"_

_She did. "I'll do whatever you need."_

_Biting her lower lip, the woman look troubled. "That's a big promise for such a little girl."_

"_I'm not little! I'm eight. Today, I choose my name. I create myself, just like you. I can do anything!"_

_Suddenly, there were tears on the pretty woman's face, and when she spoke, it was as if the entire Vortex was singing. "My Emissary. Keep him safe, protected from the false gods."_

_Then, the Bad Wolf disappeared, and she saw the raw power of Time as it eddied and swirled in the Untempered Schism. It was beautiful, and terrible, holding the promise of immense joy and great suffering. And it spun a golden web that lay upon her like a splendid mantle. Except, there was a shadowy figure in the darkness, tearing the gossamer strands and reweaving them into his own pattern. _

_She screamed, and suddenly the urge to run was absolute. Her feet flew as she pushed past the adults gathered around her. As she ran, the vision of the Bad Wolf faded until she could recall nothing but her new name. Still, the dread of the shadow lurking in the Untempered Schism compelled her to flee, until in her haste, she tripped over a tree root, tumbling down a rocky ravine. Oblivion was a welcome state._

_There was a hand holding hers, and she groaned, cracking open her eyes to see who was bothering her rest. When she saw the worried countenance of Theta Sigma, she remembered marching with him to the ceremony, but little else. The suns were high in the sky, and her head pounded to the rhythm of her hearts._

"_Are you okay, Ginger? I've been searching for you."_

"_Ran away." Her words slurred as everything began to lose its focus._

"_That's okay. I ran too." He was still in his robes, just as she, but he had stopped running blindly hours ago, returning to the reception only long enough to beg a locator beacon and a torch. He had been searching frantically for her ever since._

_Kneeling beside her, he peered at her face, but didn't dare touch. He could see that it was swollen and covered in dried blood. She kept closing her eyes, and he talked incessantly to keep her awake while the others honed in on his emergency signal._

_Disoriented, she focused on one fact, and after listening to his anxious chattering for a few minutes, she finally got a word in edgewise. "Not Ginger. The Emissary."_

"_Ooh, I like that name. Whose Emissary are you?"_

"_Don't know," she admitted guiltily after a long pause, the sound of his voice the only thing keeping her grounded in reality._

"_Well, I think I'll call you Emma, then," he decided with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Emma, I'm the Doctor. And I'm going to make sure you get better."_

The next thing she knew, she was laying on the blanket, clutching her head, screaming in terror. The darkness was suddenly something to be feared, the shadows a thing of dread. She looked into the night sky, trying to take comfort in the soft glow of the galaxy.

Tremulous, she pulled out her mobile, unsure of what number to ring first. Out of habit, she called the name at the top of the list. But when her call went straight to voicemail, she let out a strangled sob, cutting the connection as it began to record. Scrolling down, she tried the next, and when he answered with a pleased, "Hello," she hastily interrupted, her words a jumbled mess.

"There was . . . in the shadows, something in the shadows. I need. I don't know what—"

She stopped abruptly when Jack and the Doctor popped into existence only a few feet away. Throwing the mobile down, she ran forward, wrapping her arms around them both.

Overlapping, they circled her in a protective embrace, and eventually, she stopped shaking. Normally, she would have been embarrassed by such a display, but right then she didn't care. She was safe, and dawn was breaking on the horizon.

Slowly calming, she stared at the edges of the rainforest that bordered the TARDIS nursery. She appreciated that they hadn't demanded answers; it was going to be difficult enough to explain. Gradually, her tale unfolded, and they listened intently without comment until she began to apologize.

"It sounds so stupid in the daylight, but it was like a childhood nightmare come to life. I know I overreacted. You're both busy, and I shouldn't have bothered you. It's not like anything was really going to jump out from the shadows."

"We love you, Sweetheart. You could never be a bother. The Doc was frantic when you called and suddenly broke the connection."

"That was entirely your fault, Captain," the Time Lord lightly teased. "You timed it too close. She dropped the phone because we appeared."

Jack grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, well, I admit I might have been a little panicked myself. My voicemail cut off too soon to hear anything more than a cry."

Rubbing her forehead, she frowned, thinking of what it must have sounded like to them. "I really am stupid. I didn't mean to be a drama queen."

"Shadowy figures in the Vortex altering the Web of Time? I don't think you need to worry about overreacting, Emma. No wonder you ran that night. If that'd been me, I never would have stopped."

"I didn't, remember? The ground stopped me. I guess I should be thankful that I couldn't recall the vision, or I would have grown up paranoid."

"What do you mean, the ground stopped you?"

She hadn't explained past the vision she had seen in the Untempered Schism, partly because the Doctor knew everything that had happened afterwards, and partly because she still found it embarrassing that she had run right off a cliff—not a very tall cliff, mind you, but a cliff nonetheless. The Doctor spared her the humiliation of explaining.

"It was dark and she fell down a ravine, Jack. She suffered a concussion, broke seven bones, including two vertebrae, and lacerated her liver. First initiate in four hundred twenty years to be seriously injured because of the ritual, and she missed six weeks of school."

"You could have just said I fell down, you know."

"I could have," he said in a mock serious tone, "but Jack needs to know that you've been jeopardy friendly since you were a child. Wouldn't want him to think his bad habits are rubbing off on you."

"Hey!" Jack theatrically feigned indignation, glad the Doctor was finding a way to lighten the mood. "I am definitely not jeopardy friendly." Then, he put his hands on his hips, striking an exaggerated, heroic pose. "I am simply not risk-averse. One of the benefits of immortality."

Shaking her head, Melissa countered jokingly. "If you were a superhero, I'd have to call you the Human Shield, and somehow, that doesn't sound very heroic."

Getting into the spirit of the conversation, the Doctor said delightedly, "I know! We could call him Immorto-man! Immorto-man . . . ImMORto-man . . . . It just rolls off the tongue. It's brilliant!"

Jack stared at him, aghast. "You're not really going to start calling me Immorto-man, are you?"

"Hah!" the Doctor replied with great satisfaction. "You finally fell for one of my jokes! Only took me sixty-seven months, sixteen days, thirteen hours, seventeen minutes and thirty-five seconds."

"On your timeline, Doc." Jack argued good-naturedly, stealing a glance at Melissa, who, thankfully, seemed much more at ease. "On mine it's been a lot longer."

Shaking her head in exasperation, she deftly changed the subject. "Since you're both here, how would you like to see the TARDIS nursery?"

When they enthusiastically agreed, she picked up the blanket and led them down the hill. Nothing had changed, but she certainly felt much better.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

For three hours, Jack and the Doctor allowed Melissa to lead them through the TARDIS nursery. She introduced them to her new friends, who were honored to meet the Doctor in person and fascinated by Jack. They asked him all sorts of questions about the process of dying and reviving, and Melissa finally had to politely suggest a change of topic. Flavia was more than happy to join them for lunch, and when they had finished eating, Jack and the Doctor reluctantly admitted that they both had meetings to attend, and bid them goodbye.

Flashing into existence outside UN Headquarters in Geneva, Jack immediately bombarded the Doctor with questions. "Should we have left her alone? What the hell does that vision mean? Do you think someone's actively trying to manipulate her timeline? And what type of being would have that kind of power? It definitely wasn't Rose."

"Calm down, Captain," the Doctor snapped, his mind filled with the same anxious questions. "Let's discuss this rationally, eh? First, she's not alone. There are twenty Time Lords with her. Second, it's difficult to precisely interpret a vision like that one, although I have a horrible feeling that hers was more literal than usual. C, or three, it's almost impossible to tell if her timeline is being manipulated since ours overlap. Four, there are several entities I can think of that would have the power, but all of them no longer exist as far as I know, and no, I don't believe it was the Bad Wolf."

It took a moment for Jack to process the answers, and when he did, the Doctor could tell he wasn't satisfied. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

Gazing at his former companion, the Doctor's eyes were like ice. "We do what we've been doing, Captain. We watch her. Because, if anyone dares harm her, I will tear apart the Time Vortex to find him."

For once, Jack knew the Doctor was absolutely serious. If something happened to Melissa, it would be impossible to hold him back this time.


	59. This Was Always in the Cards

Author's Notes - Well, believe it or not, this story will wrap up on Friday. I want to thank everyone who's stayed with it this long. And, I especially want to thank everyone who's taken the time to write a review. Your comments have been very much appreciated. A special thanks to dwatlaskrhtcm and MaryMatthesen for reviewing the last chapter.

* * *

><p>Lord Borusa, former Chancellor of the High Council, past High Lord President of all of Gallifrey, cursed the wretched planet upon which he was currently residing. Earth was a cesspool, and the city of Cardiff in which he was forced to abide was particularly foul. The stupid humans couldn't even control the weather, and it rained almost incessantly.<p>

The food was worse. It was textured and spiced and smelled, and there wasn't a protein cube to be found. Idiot apes, growing fat on their salted chips and slices of greasy pizza and thick curries, as if their lives weren't short enough. So many of them would develop diabetes, high blood pressure and heart disease that it was a wonder they had time to procreate at all before dying.

Their ability to spread like a plague throughout the Milky Way and beyond was their only attribute, and he wondered not for the first time why the Doctor was so enamored of them as a species. On the parallel Earth, he had easily manipulated and controlled the pompous, insignificant human officials he had come into contact with. He had had no difficulties carving out a decent substitute for the Time Lord Academy in the remnants of their primeval swamps.

In his limited dealings with humans on the parallel Earth, they had been, willingly or not, respectful and subservient, and he wished to be there at the moment even if it was necessary not to be. Lord Braxiatel had caught him tampering with a store clerk's will a few days ago, and had made it clear that such action would not be tolerated again. What did that insufferable spook expect? He was not allowed access to the TARDISes, and had not been offered citizenship, not that he would have accepted it. He would not debase himself by attempting to fit in with the rodents who scurried around this miserable planet; he was better than that.

Unfortunately, this made him a man without a country, or in this case, a planet, but his loyalty to the cause was absolute. He had done as Lord Rassilon had demanded. He had cared for the Emissary and had ensured that the young ones were brought up knowing their heritage. Surely the great lord would not begrudge him a little revenge as well.

To have the Doctor's bond mate and brother at his mercy had been too tempting to resist. Besides, he had exacted only a small measure of retribution against the man who was responsible for his political downfall and agonizing imprisonment as a stone effigy on Rassilon's tomb. It was time for the coup de grace that would set the great lord's plan in motion.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Walking nonchalantly into the Old Norwegian Church, Lord Borusa flicked the water off his coat. He spied the Arcadian immediately, but she was busy with her little card games and refused to meet his gaze. No matter, she would speak to him eventually.

Walking up to the counter, he ordered a cup of Earl Gray tea. Tea was the only thing the humans had ever gotten right, and they drank it here hot, like it was meant to be, instead of poured over ice cubes.

The Arcadian still hadn't approached him by the time he received his drink, so he sat down across from her where she couldn't ignore him for long. Studying her as he sipped his tea, he noticed that the cards she flipped up were always in the same pattern. As he saw her frustration mount, he idly wondered what she was hoping would change.

After a while, she looked up at him; although there was no hint of welcome in her eyes. "You have always been in the cards; although I cannot say I am pleased to meet you."

"Your pleasure means little to me, young seer. I come to do my lord's bidding."

Looking at him shrewdly, the Arcadian smiled impishly, betraying her youth. "You have failed to do his bidding, and now expect me to assist you. Might I remind you, Lord Borusa, that even Arcadians, bound as we are to the Web of Time, still have free will. You will not find me a willing accomplice."

"But you will be my accomplice, or risk jeopardizing the treaty that binds our two worlds. When Gallifrey rises, would you not also like to see a new Arcadia?"

Steely-eyed, she played her best card. "Gallifrey's resurrection is not fixed. And why should I honor a treaty that was broken in spirit if not fact? Only The Emissary upheld Gallifrey's promise to come to our aid. The actions of an individual, no matter how courageous, do not comprise the resolve of an entire government."

Ignoring her most troubling point, he easily poked holes in her argument. "You forget that The Emissary was Castellan when she rescued the children of Arcadia. Her position in the government meant all actions taken became the policy of the High Council. You cannot argue that she was acting alone."

Conceding the point, she tried a new argument. "Lord Rassilon is dead, destroyed by the Moment like everything else. Why do you cling to the past when you should be looking to the future? I have told you Gallifrey's resurrection cannot be foreseen. Why do you insist on risking those best suited to forging a new future for your people?"

Involuntarily, Borusa stiffened, letting his true emotions show for just a few seconds as he replied heatedly. "Those children don't need a future molded by a renegade and a weakling! I want to see them dead, regardless of the outcome!"

It took him a moment to regain control, but when he did, there was a knowing smile on his face. "You will help me, and you know it. You've been trying to change that fact ever since I walked through the door, but even now, the pattern repeats. Is it such a terrible thing? I only ask that you make her remember. She, too, has free will."

The Arcadian regarded him coldly. "She is a pawn, and has been maneuvered by a grandmaster, as well you know. She will do as you expect, and I shall play my part, repugnant though it is." Then, her face hardened like stone. "But, a word of warning, Lord Borusa. I have read both your futures, and no matter how smug you may be about her fate, know that yours will be worse."

Placidly, as if they had been discussing the weather, the Arcadian bid him a good day. Once again she hunched over the table, flipping Tarot cards onto its surface. She laughed as he was walking away, and he glanced at the oversized card she had revealed. Involuntarily, a shudder ran through him. The pattern had changed. On one of the cards was a picture of a howling wolf, which he hadn't seen before. He left hurriedly after that, his earlier confidence shaken.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Wagamama was filled with the Time Lords who had been assigned to the United Kingdom. It was a going away party of sorts for the young ones who would be spreading throughout England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. However, it was a welcome back party for Melissa, who had arrived in Cardiff the night before, her work on the TARDIS nursery complete.

Relaxed and vibrant, she was sitting beside the Doctor and across from Donna and Jack. Brax was on the other side of her, and she gave his arm a friendly squeeze before turning her attention to Mickey, who was sitting with Martha across from her bond brother. It was more difficult to hear Gwen's conversation with Rhys, even though they were sitting on the other side of Donna.

Ianto was seated at the end of the table across from Rhys, leaving an empty space between him and the Doctor, no doubt deliberate since it put him as far away as possible from Jack. Their relationship had not improved during her time in Brazil; although for some strange reason, the archivist blamed Jack for the breakup. In fact, he had gone so far as to apologize to her for any awkwardness she might feel, which proved that she really didn't know this Ianto at all.

Jack was enduring the awkwardness well; no doubt it was a situation in which he had found himself many times in the past. He assured her that Ianto would get over it, and had confessed that Donna had decided to play matchmaker. She was planning on introducing him to Drocina, who was staying in Cardiff to teach Martha about Time Lord physiology.

Mickey self-consciously held hands with the Torchwood medic. Tom had given her an ultimatum right after Melissa had left—him or Torchwood. It hadn't even been close. She seemed happier with Mickey, and Melissa hoped it would work out for both of them.

Brax listened politely to the conversations flowing around him, but Melissa noticed that he still frowned anytime Jack opened his mouth. He continued to make it very clear in private that he didn't trust the so-called Jack Harkness. When he had found out that both his brother and Melissa were living in Jack's house, he voiced strong disapproval; although he could never give a rational reason other than the fact that Jack had once worked for the Time Agency.

She was very grateful that he had no idea she was bonded to Jack just as much as the Doctor. There were times when she feared her bond mate's older brother, no matter how pleasant he appeared. Brax had been in charge of the CIA long enough for him to conclude that the end justified the means.

"So," Jack said with a grin on his face as he finished telling his favorite story. "There we all were, naked, running as fast as we can, and I say-"

"We should have taken the left!" His entire side of the table said it in chorus as his face fell in mock disappointment.

"Even I've heard that one," Rhys admitted with a half-smile. "I think you need to work on some new stories, or make sure you remember who you told them to. Not getting forgetful in your old age, are you?"

"It's a classic! Why mess with perfection?" Jack's smile was back as Donna rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"You got any new stories, Captain Cheesecake? Or are you only good with ancient history?" Mickey liked teasing his boss, thankful that in this universe, Torchwood's attitude was work hard/play hard, rather than all work and regulations like it had been on Pete's World.

"Hey, Mickey, did he ever tell you about the time he kissed Shakespeare?" As Jack groaned theatrically in protest, Mickey, Martha and Donna begged Melissa to share her tale. Even Rhys and Gwen had stopped talking and were waiting for her to begin. Ianto leaned a little closer to the group so he, too, could hear, although he did all he could to appear disinterested.

Somehow, Melissa managed to make their encounter with the Carrionites in the alternate reality sound like a romp rather than a nightmare. Only Donna and Brax noticed how tense the Doctor and Jack were, although the two men were outwardly smiling affably at her tale.

"So," Melissa continued as she easily held their attention. "Old Will can't believe what he's seeing, and he asks Jack, 'What manner of man are you, who can make the dead speak?' And then Jack gets that steamy, sexy look on his face that he does so well, and he puts about two inches between them and says, 'One you would like to get to know better.' Then, of course, he gives the Bard one of those patented Jack Harkness kisses, and Shakespeare just stands there, completely dumbfounded as we leave. Now, Jack hasn't said anything and I admit I'm curious, and do you know the first thing that came out of his mouth? He said, the kiss wasn't too bad, but Shakespeare certainly has-"

"Bad breath!" Martha finished loudly. "God, that man had the most atrocious breath, didn't he, Jack?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied half-heartedly. Melissa was an excellent storyteller, and he, like most everyone else at the table, felt somewhat cheated not to have the account finished properly.

When Martha realized what she had done, she apologized effusively, but a long, awkward pause settled over the group, only to be broken by the arrival of lunch. Then, everyone made small talk as they commented on their neighbor's menu choices and began to eat.

Busy with lunch, it took a moment for all of them to process the unnatural silence in the restaurant. They were all soldiers of one sort or another, even if most of them would not admit it, and as soon as they noticed the undercurrent of tension in the room, they were instantly alert. All eyes focused on the small person who did not belong.

The young-seeming girl, dressed in an ankle length purple velvet dress, held a large bouquet of wildflowers in her hand. Standing unperturbed at the entrance to the restaurant, she scanned the crowd, nodding to herself as she saw who was sitting at the table in the back of the room. Then, she started to walk slowly towards them.

Melissa turned to face the Arcadian, slowly rising from her seat. Jack and the Doctor followed, Jack quickly walking around the table to stand protectively on her right side. The silence became one of hushed anticipation as the Time Lords came to realize to which species the girl belonged.

Reaching the trio, the young seer smiled sweetly, although her eyes remained somber. "This was always in the cards, my lady. My people mourn your suffering as we lament the part we play in it. Please accept these Earth flowers as a token of our grief."

Bemused, Melissa accepted the flowers, unsure of the meaning of the Arcadian's speech. The arrangement was really quite lovely, and had a tantalizing scent. Inhaling deeply, she was viciously bombarded by her memories of Arcadia, the Death Zone and her conversation with Lord Rassilon. Tears falling down her face, she stared at nothing, her slack hands losing grip on the flowers, which fell carelessly onto the floor.

"What have you done?" the Doctor demanded angrily as the rest of the patrons began to mutter in consternation.

"I have played my part, albeit unwillingly. The children of Arcadia do not revel in the Lady Emissary's continued suffering. However, this is the path she chose." The generally placid seer appeared unusually shame-faced against the Doctor's anger and began to back quickly away.

Not finding Melissa responsive, Jack ran to the retreating figure and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her roughly. "What the hell was in those flowers? What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing poisonous, Captain," she responded as calmly as ever, even as Jack continued to painfully grip her arms. "It is but rosemary, for remembrance. You will understand soon enough."

"Let her go, Jack. She's only the method, not the madman behind it."

The Doctor, who had come to offer his assistance, spoke to his friend softly, realizing finally what the girl had done. Brax must have comprehended as well, because he and Donna were gently easing Melissa to the ground. They carefully put their hands to her face, hoping to alleviate the emotional impact of some of the more intense memories.

Reluctantly, the Captain released the Arcadian, who looked at him sadly. "I have long enjoyed your company, Sir Knight, but you must know that payment is due."

"Yeah, well, you got the bad end of that bargain, since I would have done it anyway." Jack was all bravado, but there was a tiny note of anxiety in his voice. The Doctor looked sharply at his friend. Suddenly, he got a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Having witnessed the immortal's actions, the rest of the Time Lords began to half-stand in the benches, ready to finish what he had started.

"Let her pass," the Doctor ordered authoritatively to the crowd. "She has done what was required, nothing more. There shall be no reprisals for her actions." His voice was cold and clipped, and the former students did not dare go against it. Silently, they sat down, glaring at the Arcadian as she walked unhurriedly out the door.

As the girl exited, Lord Borusa entered triumphantly, looking around the silent restaurant in approval. There would be plenty of witnesses for what was about to happen. By the time he reached the Doctor, Melissa was again standing, her face wet with tears.

Taking a deep breath, she announced clearly to the entire room. "The time lock is truly broken. As I promised Lord Rassilon all those years ago, I will reenter the Time War. Gallifrey shall not fall."

With her pronouncement, chaos erupted.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I'm begging you not to go."

Melissa sat in the kitchen of the TARDIS, pretending to drink a cup of coffee as she pleaded with Jack. Brax was still trying to convince the Doctor that retrieving the Matrix would be a much safer course of action than attempting to accomplish the Greater Plan. They were arguing with Borusa in the console room, and Melissa had tired of the dispute within five minutes.

"I don't see you begging the Doctor not to go."

He stood defensively in front of her, his jaw clenched. He wanted to spend his last hours with her in his arms, not arguing about whether or not he would be accompanying her to Gallifrey.

She plunked down her coffee mug hard enough that some of the hot liquid splashed out. Ignoring it, she answered heatedly. "If I thought I could change his mind, I would be groveling at his feet, begging him to stay. This is a suicide mission, Jack. There's no other way of looking at it. Only he's got so much guilt bottled up inside that he doesn't care. I can't deny him the chance to redeem himself. If you think my nightmares are bad, you should see his."

"I can't die. Let me help."

"You can die, you stupid ape! And if you're caught on Gallifrey during the Moment of Unmaking, you'll stay dead. Nothing can withstand that weapon. It was meant to erase the timeline so the War had never been. Don't think it couldn't erase you."

Abruptly kneeling before her, he tenderly kissed her hand. "I love you, Sweetheart. Last time, we were separated by a locked door. We couldn't even touch. Don't make me feel that pain again."

Her face contorted with grief. "Jack, please."

But she knew she had lost the argument. She responded passionately as he pressed kisses onto her neck even as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Picking her up, he took her to his bedroom, loving her with his body and his mind, until they were joined wholly, existing completely within the other. Afterwards, he caressed her until she fell into an uneasy sleep. Then, he left quietly to seek the Doctor.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They departed for Gallifrey later that evening, the Doctor, Melissa, Jack and Borusa, taking the Doctor's TARDIS. They made a hasty departure as word of Melissa's promise raced through the Time Lord community. There was no use letting the arguments for and against fester. She felt it was her duty to Lord Rassilon, and she was determined to go, with or without help.

Borusa had claimed to have knowledge of the defense codes that would allow the TARDIS to materialize inside Rassilon's tomb. Begrudgingly, he was allowed to make the journey. There wasn't much to say, and the ride was unnaturally quiet, but even with four people piloting the ship, the trip was bumpier than normal.

As they engaged the time rotor to fly back to the final battle of the Time War, Borusa simply vanished, as if he had never been. Unfortunately, he had refused to share the force field codes with anyone prior to his disappearance, so the TARDIS landed in the Death Zone, several miles away from the tomb of Rassilon. All three armed themselves; even the Doctor picked a weapon capable of piercing Dalekanium. Warily, they exited the TARDIS and entered the fog of the Death Zone.

"There are three ways into the tomb, but the quickest is the front door. And, since no one is playing the Game of Rassilon at the moment, the way should be clear. We go in together, lower the force shield and make sure there are five ships available for whatever Lord Rassilon has planned, understood?" The Doctor had taken the lead because he was most familiar with the Death Zone, and Melissa and Jack didn't waste time arguing.

"Simple enough until we run into the Daleks." Looking into the sky, Melissa frowned, concentrating intently. "We've only got seventy-two minutes and thirty-six seconds before the Moment is unleashed, less if we plan to keep the fifth TARDIS inside the tomb so we don't have to sacrifice yours. Better get moving." Jogging briskly, she set off in the direction of the tomb, Jack and the Doctor running to catch up to her.

They covered the rugged two and three quarter miles in just under fifteen minutes, approaching the main door cautiously. Ringing the bell, Melissa watched the door slowly open and gave Jack a reassuring glance. He grinned back, but he had shut his mind to her, and it was making her extremely apprehensive. They were all scared, and with good reason, she admitted privately. They were minutes from dying in the final battle of the Time War, and she wasn't exactly sure what would happen to them if they did manage to complete the Greater Plan.

Cautiously, they each stepped across the checkerboard trap, using pi to step on the correct sequence of tiles. All was quiet in the entryway, and as they made their way through the empty stone hallways, they were lulled into a false sense of complacency. Suddenly, a Dalek patrol was behind them with shouts of 'Exterminate' echoing off the walls.

Instantly, Melissa froze the scene. Grasping Jack's and the Doctor's hands, she pulled them out of the line of fire. As she strained to maintain the time perspective, Jack managed to shoot the four Daleks.

When time flowed once again, however, the Daleks recoiled from the blasts to their casings and misfired into the ceiling. The collapse of the roof above them surprised her so much that she didn't have a chance to react. Suddenly, great blocks of stone were raining down.

As the dust cleared, the Doctor looked miserably around him. Jack was dead; a chunk of stone must have hit him in the head because he sported a large indentation in his skull. He looked away reluctantly, hating that his friend had died yet again, but knowing that the immortal would soon come back. He needed to find Melissa.

Trying to turn around, excruciating pain shot through his left shoulder and ankle. His shoulder was dislocated, perhaps broken, and his ankle was definitely smashed. Blocking his discomfort, he slowly spun, and his hearts almost stopped. Melissa was unconscious, her body pinned underneath a huge pile of rubble. Crawling to her, he checked her pulse and tried to reach her with his mind.

She responded almost immediately, eyes snapping open. "I'm alright." She tried to reassure him, but soon understood she had been grossly optimistic in her assessment. She could not free herself from the rubble, and it was difficult to breathe. "I'm alright," she tried again, although she could feel consciousness already slipping away. "Slightly stuck. Where's Jack?"

Choosing that moment to revive, the Captain came back to life with a gasp. Having healed from his injuries, he was in much better shape than either one of them. Vainly, he tried to shift the larger pieces of rock that pinned Melissa, but he needed another set of hands, something the Doctor wasn't going to be able to provide, even after Jack had managed to pop his shoulder back in place. Digging futilely at the debris, he was surprised to hear a voice behind him.

"Well, well, well, Doctor, it seems I'm not the only one who's decided Gallifrey's a lost cause. Finally found your sense of self-preservation, or are you too confused from regeneration sickness that you don't even know where you are? You'll have to forgive me for being vulgar, but I believe you were wearing a different face just a few hours ago." The Time Lord looked at the Doctor and his companion speculatively, trying to decide if they would be a hindrance or help in his escape.

"Is he?" Jack started to ask indignantly, but the Doctor used his good hand to wave him to stop.

The Captain's question drew the Master's attention, however, and the Time Lord looked at him thoughtfully. "What are you? Some experiment of the High Council? Or a victim of a Dalek weapon?"

"I'm a freak." Jack spat out venomously, wondering why of all the Time Lords, it had to be that bastard who had shown up.

"Stop it," the Doctor warned. Then, he pleaded with the Master. "Emma's caught under the rubble. Help us get her free."

"How conventional of you! The world is going to hell, and you take up with your long abandoned mate. Although, I can understand why you would. Her mind and body were so very ripe when I plucked her all those years ago. She comes quite easily, don't you think?"

Jack slammed him against the wall, clunking the Master's head painfully against the stone. For a long moment, the Captain squeezed his hands around his throat. Then, resignedly, the Doctor commanded, "Let him go, Jack. You know very well you can't kill him here, much as I would like you to."

More flustered from the attack than he cared to admit, the Master straightened his cape. "Why should I help you anyway?"

"Because," the Doctor ground out, wishing he could have let Jack finish what he had started, "I'm going to tell you the location of an unguarded TARDIS. Help us, and you can do the only thing you seem to be good at; you can cheat death once again."

Accepting the Doctor's word, the Master turned to Jack. "Well come on, Freak. I'm not doing this by myself."

Even with the Master's assistance, it took twenty-two minutes to free Melissa from the stones that pinned her. The coward didn't stick around to see if she would recover; he ran to the tomb, stealing the unguarded TARDIS without a qualm.

"Jack? Doctor?" Once the debris had been removed, she found it much easier to breathe, although it was still incredibly painful.

"We're okay," Jack began, but then thought better of it. "Well, I'm okay, but the Doc's got a few issues. His ankle's broken, for one."

"And my shoulder," the Doctor added regretfully, sitting carefully against the wall. "On the plus side, we're close to the tomb. I'd say we have seventeen minutes left before everything burns, so we need to get going."

"We're going to have to use your TARDIS as one of the ships, now that the Master's taken the fifth." Jack was pissed off; the selfish bastard had almost ruined the plan, and now it was the Doctor who would be paying the price.

"She'll understand," the Doctor finally allowed, sorrow evident in his voice. "After all, she lost all of her kind today as well."

Keeping his pain tightly in check, he stood up to limp behind Melissa. They had not asked her how she was doing. Both of them could sense her agony as she drew each breath, but they could also both sense her fortitude. There was little need for conversation anymore; their paths were fixed.

Even ignoring the pain, it took the two Time Lords longer to reach their goal than the time they had allotted. As the three wearily trudged into the cavernous tomb, they watched in horror as the four remaining TARDISes dematerialized. Deflated, they looked around the empty room.

In an instant, Lord Rassilon himself appeared before them, giving each a deep bow. "I knew you would prevail, Emissary, but time grows short. We must begin soon."

"Begin what?" she wheezed angrily. "We're too late! The ships just left!"

"But I have never needed the ships," he replied matter-of-factly. "Just you and the Fact."

"I don't understand."

"You weren't meant to," he said, as if this were a kindness. "When the Bad Wolf chose you, I knew I had the perfect opportunity to achieve victory against the Daleks. She was such an immature god, and so very kindhearted. It was easy to mislead her so that the Time Agent would be made immortal through her connection to the Vortex. I admit that the Doctor's brother caused me some problems, but it was easy to arrange a second meeting between you and the Fact."

Melissa and Jack shared looks of confusion at the ancient Time Lord's words, but he didn't explain, and the Doctor stayed silent. He knew that now wasn't the time to try to explain the rest of Melissa's suppressed memories. Later, if they managed to survive the Moment, then perhaps he would confess his brother's abuse of power.

Gazing intently at Jack, Rassilon continued as if the two were having a private conversation. "You have been made for a higher purpose, but what you give must be given of your own free will."

Jack looked craftily at the powerful Time Lord. "And what if I don't?"

"Then you will die anyway, along with the two people you love above all else."

"What's this?" the Doctor asked suspiciously, only to have Rassilon grab him by his broken shoulder, sending him to his knees.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but you are merely a witness this day. Someone must speak to the High Council of what transpires." Enraged, the Doctor found that he was paralyzed; he could neither move nor speak.

"What the hell have you done to him?" Jack angrily demanded.

"Nothing compared to what I am about to do to both of you," Rassilon replied gravely.

Then he turned his attention to Melissa. "Castellan, you agreed to suffer for the future of Gallifrey, and you have done so. Her children are safe on Earth. Now, however, I ask you to save her. You must channel the destructive power of the Moment through living vessels who have a connection to the Time Vortex itself. But the energy must be channeled slowly. You must alter time in this space so that it crawls, all the while maintaining contact with myself and the Fact, do you understand?"

Melissa understood all too clearly. "You asked me to suffer! Not to make someone else do so! Jack has no part to play here; let him go! He's not a Time Lord and Gallifrey is not his home!"

"The Fact must play his part, or else Gallifrey will fall, and you and he and the Doctor with it."

"You Bastard! You meant for this to happen all along!" Gasping, she tried to slow her respirations, but she was too upset.

Before Melissa could do Rassilon bodily harm, Jack embraced her tenderly, wiping the dust of the roof collapse from her face. "I told you a long time ago that there must be a reason why I'm like this, and now we know. I have to do this, don't you see?"

"You'll die." The agony of that knowledge was a pain much greater than that of her broken ribs.

"I died a long time ago. I've been lucky to get so much extra time with you." He kissed her briefly before taking a step back.

The entire planet started to shake. "It must be done now," Rassilon urged.

Determinedly, Jack clasped Melissa's left hand as Rassilon gripped her right. The Doctor watched helplessly, horrified to see time slow to a snail's pace. The Moment descended into the tomb, raining down debris of fiery stone and steel. As Melissa kept the pace, the awesome destructive forces unleashed by the Doctor two lifetime's ago funneled relentlessly into Rassilon and the Captain, to be expelled as waves of energy that rippled throughout the planet.

The process seemed to take forever, although the Doctor knew that in real time it was over in less than a second. Finally, the flow of energy abated. The three who had been at the firestorm's center dropped to the ground, Rassilon's body instantly decaying into dust. Suddenly free from his paralysis, the Doctor picked his way through the rubble to crawl to his bond mate. Her hearts still beat, although their rhythm was irregular and dangerously slow.

Taking a moment, the Doctor glanced at his friend's body, tears falling unabashedly down his face. Jack looked peaceful; there was not a mark on him. He was also very dead, and this time there would be no return. Time flowed through his former companion now, though it made little difference to the Doctor. He would have given anything to have the Captain return; even his wrongness would be preferable to such cold death. He knew that he was being selfish. Jack did not deserve the curse of immortality, but he had loved the courageous, impulsive human, and could not help but mourn his passing.

Ignoring his injuries, he dragged Melissa to a wall where he could hold her against him, kissing her gently as he felt her slowly slipping away.

She appeared to him in the serene mountain valley, clothed in a traditional, green festive dress of the Arcalians, her hair pinned with the silver Pyrodian clasps he had given her as a betrothal present. Her feet were bare as she ran towards him over the lush red grass. Smiling softly, she pressed a chaste kiss against his lips. "I wished to say fare well, Beloved."

Pulling her to him, he returned her kiss, deepening it to reflect his devotion and passion. "Don't leave," he begged quietly. "I can't bear to lose you again."

"My body is failing, even now." She whispered regretfully as she wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head on his chest. "And my mind is crippled. I can no longer feel the turn of Gallifrey, or the flow of time. All I know is the pain of his absence, and the fatigue of taking my last breaths."

She looked sadly up into his eyes. "I'm sorry I am leaving you, Beloved. Know that I have loved you for all my time."

Slowly, the Doctor opened his eyes, returning to a painful reality. As he looked again around the room, he noticed that Borusa had once again taken his place as a stone effigy, but it barely intrigued him. Melissa was the only thing that mattered. He watched despondently as her breaths grew ever shallower.


	60. He Was Well Loved

Author's Notes -

I'd like to thank TheOnyxRose, Way Worse Than Scottish, Mrs. 11th, dwatlaskrhtcm, and MaryMatthesen for their reviews of the last chapter. Yes, I know; cliffhangers are evil, but sometimes they're necessary. And, again, thank you to everyone who takes the time to review a story they like, or even one they don't.

Well, this is it. I really don't know what to say. I'm happy that The Emissary found an audience here and sincerely thank each and every one of you for reading it, especially considering how rough it is in the beginning. If you'd like to read more, there is a sequel. It's called Careless Benevolence, and I will begin to post it here in about a week. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>Melissa woke slowly in the Citadel's infirmary, disoriented and confused. As she began to panic, a familiar, comforting presence enveloped her mind.<p>

"Jack?"

"I'm sorry."

The Doctor answered regretfully, tenderly holding her hand. She had been unconscious for a full seven days, but his joy at her recovery was tempered by the pain of Jack's loss.

She sat to face him as she gradually remembered what she had done. "I killed him." Her voice was flat and emotionless.

"No," he countered quietly. "The Moment killed him. He sacrificed himself so Gallifrey would survive."

The look of absolute devastation on her face broke his hearts. "I would rather have Jack."

"I know," he soothed. "I know."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Doctor sat uncomfortably straight on the black settee. While this particular room in the Citadel was intimately familiar, he had never felt more ill at ease. The reason stood before him, an anticipatory grin on her face. Privately, he acknowledged that he was not without fault, but he'd tried twice to make his intentions clear. Unfortunately, he didn't think she had listened, and he had a horrible suspicion that things were about to get very ugly.

Romana's hair was the color of his bond mate's, but there the similarities ended. She was tall and solid, her body perfectly suited for intimidation. Her face was plain, although in the past that would not have mattered to him. The last time they'd parted, it had been more than amicably. And, if events had not changed him so drastically, no doubt their reunion would have been the same.

He was a different man. And, things had definitely changed. Unfortunately, he was quickly realizing that she had no intention of accepting that the Time War had altered him or their relationship in any manner. The set look of determination in her inky blue eyes sent a jolt of foreboding down his spine.

Without warning, she pressed her lips firmly against his. When he didn't respond, she seemed puzzled.

"What's wrong?"

Rigid, he pulled away from her. "I've told you; this isn't why I came."

"Why did you come here, then?" Provocatively, she stood up to undo her long scarlet robe. It dropped smoothly to the floor, revealing her nakedness underneath.

"I came because you said you wanted to see me in private, High Lord President."

Eyes narrowing, she replied suspiciously. "Why else would I wish to see you in private?"

"Oh, I don't know, Romana," the Doctor sarcastically replied. "I thought you might actually have a question for me pertaining to the Greater Plan . But perhaps our breaking through the time lock to cross our own timeline in order to save Gallifrey is self explanatory?"

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, you know," she snapped back. "I heard your initial testimony and that of the Castellan, and I don't think there is anything in your tale that needs to be discussed in private. Gallifrey is safe; the Daleks are vanquished, no matter what chain of events you believe Lord Rassilon to have engineered. That human companion of yours is to be given a hero's tribute in two days time, and then he will be returned to his people. Cardinal Braxiatel has already contacted us about the children, and we are preparing for their triumphant homecoming."

Standing almost as tall as he, she grabbed his tie, firmly pulling him closer, licking her lips. "I thought we could celebrate. Once again, you have managed to save the day, Doctor."

Just as firmly, he pulled away from her, taking a step backwards. "I'm not the same man you knew, Romana. I've changed, and my bond mate and I have reunited."

Starting to get annoyed, she put her hands on her hips. "I've noticed your new look; it's just as pleasing as the old one, even if the hair's a bit . . . straggly. As for the Emissary, surely she will understand. We have held each other's heart for many years, even with your prior commitment. Two hearts, remember? One for casual and one for best, although our relationship has never been casual, has it, Doctor?"

"No," he confessed regretfully. "Our relationship has never been casual, Romana. But it is over; I'm sorry. I'm a different man, actually have been two different men since I last saw you."

When she again took a step forwards, as if to kiss him, he finally lost his temper.

"Damn it, Romana! Why aren't you listening? I'm so much older in so many ways. I've lived for hundreds of years with the knowledge that I destroyed you and everyone else on this planet, thinking I was the last Time Lord in existence. And while I will never be able to forgive myself for that, I finally found I could exist with the knowledge. And that's in large part due to Emma and Jack."

Agitated, he began to pace. "Jack died saving all of Gallifrey and you have the gall to call him 'that human'? Listen to yourself, Romana! You've become as stuffy as those cardinals we used to mock while travelling together. What gives you the right to speak about him like that? Captain Jack Harkness was more heroic than all the Time Lords put together, and I'm sorry we ever obeyed that megalomaniac Rassilon and returned here!"

Warily, she studied him for several moments. Then she addressed him frigidly. "You are understandably distraught. Your bond mate has been sorely injured and your companion killed. I am sure you do not believe that it would have been better if Gallifrey had not survived. However, the war has been won, General, and the High Council no longer has need of your service. You are dismissed with the appreciation of the entire planet, Lord Doctor. Now, you may leave us." With that, Romana grabbed her robe and turned away from him, sitting primly at her desk as she pretended to read the latest intelligence from the CIA.

Keeping his temper firmly in check, the Doctor stalked out, looking for his bond mate. He found her packing up a few personal items in her office.

"I gave my resignation to Amathow. He told me to pack up my things."

"Yeah? Well, I just got canned, although I had almost forgotten I had a position." Bitterly he added, "Not that there's a fleet left to command." Deciding to be honest with her, he continued. "I tried explaining to Romana that things had changed, but she didn't take it very well."

"Oh."

He hated the flatness of her voice. She hadn't cried since Jack's death; in fact she had shown very little emotion at all. Rubbing her back, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I don't feel anything. It's like this is all a dream and I'm stuck inside it."

Placing a sympathetic kiss on the top of her head, he helped her wrap up a few trinkets. "You could force a regeneration," he finally suggested. "The healers gave us both a whole new cycle, and they told me your temporal lobe would renew itself during the process. Perhaps that would help make Jack's death seem more real."

"They didn't ask me if I wanted a new set of regenerations," she quietly complained. Feeling his hurt, however, she expounded. "I know I should regenerate, heal and get it over with. But this is the body Jack loved, and it's difficult for me to give that up, even with its deficits. Can you understand?"

"You're speaking to the person who got shot by a Dalek and put his regenerative energy in a spare hand partly so Rose wouldn't have to see me change. I think I can understand."

He smiled at her, although she didn't return it. Her face remained just as expressionless as it had been since she had awoken in the infirmary. Stifling a sigh, he took her hand. "Come on; let's go put this junk in the TARDIS."

They returned to the TARDIS where the Doctor made a simple dinner of pasta Alfredo. Placing a large serving in front of her, he made sure she ate. When her head began to droop before he could serve dessert, he led her to his bedroom and tucked her into his bed. She woke to a nightmare several hours later, but quieted again once he settled beside her. All too soon, it was time to meet the day; it would not do to be late for the next round of interrogation by the High Council.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"That's enough!" the Doctor roared, standing abruptly when Melissa all but cowered as yet another cardinal demanded to know why she had resigned as castellan and why she not yet regenerated. Cardinal Rhodil had all but insinuated that perhaps it was time that her healers force a regeneration upon her so that the whole unfortunate incident could be put behind them.

Having captured their attention, he continued in a quieter, though no less dangerous voice. "One, Cardinal Rhodil, I think you'll find that forced regenerations of any sort were outlawed during my tenure as president. If you remember your history, I'm sure you'll understand why. Two, the reason for the Emissary's resignation is her own affair. However, considering what she did for this planet a week ago, I think you should all be more than satisfied with the job she has done."

"C," he started only to have Melissa nudge him with her foot. "Or three, just days ago in your timeline, you were facing extinction by the Daleks. The decision to employ the Moment was not one I made lightly, nor were the extraordinary actions taken ago to safeguard Gallifrey from the effects of that weapon in any way an unfortunate incident."

His voice became grave as he continued. "I speak to all of you now in warning. Gallifrey is a much more open society than it has been in the past, and your attempts to belittle what has transpired here in the last few days are political suicide at best and an irresponsible torch to a powder keg at worst. Are you forgetting that the entire fleet was wiped out attempting to stop the atrocities on Arcadia and delaying the attack on our home soil? Every family on this planet has lost someone in the War, and the ancient Houses are in shambles. Many of their best and brightest were killed fighting on the front lines.

"And four," he finished, glaring at each one of them until they shrank from his gaze. "The Emissary and I are finished answering questions. We are retiring to our home in the valley of Mt. Endeavor. We will return tomorrow for the tribute to Captain Harkness, and then we will depart immediately for Earth." Helping Melissa to stand, he led her silently to the TARDIS.

The ship's materialization in the gardens of their estate caused quite a commotion. Dozens of people had gathered by the time he and Melissa exited the TARDIS. As soon as the growing crowd saw the couple, as a group they bowed deeply.

"Now," the Doctor started, embarrassed at the display and slightly flustered. "That's enough of that, eh? Difficult to say hello if I can't even see your faces."

His humor was enough to put everyone at ease. Soon, he was being embraced; his hand was being shaken; and people were patting him on the back, wanting nothing more than to thank him and be reassured that the War had truly ended. As he mixed with old friends and acquaintances, he noticed sadly that Melissa stood off to the side, staring at the ground. Several friends and neighbors greeted her, but there was no return greeting, no enthusiasm, or any emotion at all in her face. Jack's death had affected her so deeply that she truly was numb.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Come on, Em!" The Doctor called impatiently as the TARDIS' doors remained closed. The ship had landed near the wooden pavilion next to the waterfall on the grounds of the estate. Having gleaned from her memories that it was a location she and Jack had visited often in their minds, he hoped that it would provoke some kind of reaction from her. Anger, horror, embarrassment, even despair would be better than the unfeeling state into which she had fallen.

Reaching the pavilion well before her, the Doctor swore softly. He had expected the damage from the Dalek attacks to have been limited to the house itself, but he had been wrong. Whether a stray shot or an intentional strike, the pavilion had been destroyed, its roof collapsed and every single pane of stained glass smashed.

Placing his backpack on the ground, he turned in apology as he heard her approach. "I'm sorry; I should have checked."

She stared uncomprehending at the ruins of the structure for several seconds before facing him. "It's gone, just like Jack." Then, her face screwed up against all the pain that was pouring out of her, and she screamed in rage before sobbing uncontrollably against him.

Much later, when her tears had dried and her breathing was again slow and even, the Doctor opened his backpack, pulling out a bottle of blue liquid. Then, he spread a large woolen blanket on the soft ground near the waterfall and beckoned her to sit near him.

"What's that?"

Retrieving two oversized shot glasses from his sack, he gave her a wry smile. "Hypervodka. Jack's tribute is tomorrow, but if I know the Council, they'll make it all stuffy and ceremonial, everything the good Captain wasn't. Thought we could give him a proper send off."

Sniffling, she smiled back, allowing the Doctor to fill her shot glass to the brim. Then, she raised it in a toast. "To Jack, the man who could write new chapters for the Kama Sutra." Drinking the shot in one go, she actually chuckled, remembering a few of the more challenging positions they had attempted physically.

Relieved beyond belief to hear her laugh, the Doctor drained his shot glass and refilled both for his own toast. "To Jack, the man who kept a compact laser deluxe always at the ready."

"To, Jack, the man who never let the facts get in the way of a good story."

"To Jack, the only conman I've ever met who had a conscience."

"To Jack, he rescued me so many times."

"To Jack, his loyalty was without question and his forgiveness without bounds."

"To Jack, he was well loved."

Draining the bottle, the Doctor agreed. "He certainly was, by both of us."

Drinking her last shot, Melissa lay back on the blanket, gazing at the waterfall. Her cheeks were flushed and a tingling warmness gradually spread throughout her body.

"You cheated! You got me drunk."

"Well," he admitted slowly as he lay down beside her, his expression smug. "I might have substituted the hypervodka with the Gallifreyan equivalent. It didn't seem fair to toast the Captain with something that didn't have a kick."

"I guess it wouldn't," she allowed, too mellow to make much of a fuss. Gazing at the sky, she watched the clouds drift by, pretending she could feel the turn of the ground beneath her.

Suddenly, she was nervous. "Is the memorial service now?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he answered tenderly. "No, not now. I promised I'd tell you, remember?"

Sheepishly, she admitted, "I'm scared of missing it."

"Trust me."

She gazed lovingly into his eyes. "I do." Relaxing, she resumed her cloud gazing, imagining all sorts of creatures in the sky.

Watching her contentedly, he began to play absentmindedly with her hair, twirling the long tresses around his fingers. When Melissa noticed, she turned and smoothed his unruly hair in return, smiling playfully. "Maybe you'll be ginger next."

"I can hope," he agreed softly, distracted by her closeness. Lightly, he caressed her exposed neck.

As his fingers brushed her skin, she felt a more insistent warmth pooling inside her body. Whether it was the alcohol or simply a need to banish the numbness that she had lived with since Jack's death, she moved her hand to caress the Doctor's cheek.

"You know, hypervodkas are good, but Jack deserves something slightly more innovative."

Slowly, he unbuttoned her shirt, trailing his fingers down her body. "And your suggestion is?"

"He always wondered what it would be like to have sex on top of the console."

"It would probably be very uncomfortable," he remarked honestly as he sent her an image of her sitting naked on the edge of the circular console, her legs wrapped around his bare torso. "We could stay here and imagine it."

"No cheating," she countered as she undid his tie. "I want to feel."

Pulling her up to lead her into the TARDIS, he answered slyly. "That sounds like a challenge."

As his words mirrored those of her memories, she gave him a devilish grin. "The best kind."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Do you think the reality lived up to the fantasy?"

Grinning wildly, she flattened his damp hair. "I think I'm going to have an imprint of the parking brake on my bum, but I think the reality exceeded all expectations."

"We can't have that. I think we should find somewhere more comfortable." He answered in a mock serious tone as he pulled her off the console and began to carry her towards his bedroom.

Laying her on the bed, he licked the sweat off her neck before trailing his tongue down her back. Abruptly, she turned to face him, all levity vanished.

"I'm not a consolation prize, you know. You don't have to do this. With Gallifrey restored, you can cross the Void and claim Rose. I won't stand in your way."

He trailed his fingers lightly down her side before answering. "Rose got what she wanted, and so did I. I want you, Em, body, mind and soul, until the end of my days. You could never be a consolation prize."

"Body to body, mind to mind, two souls as one, until the end of our days," she agreed solemnly. As his tongue resumed its exploration, this time she made no complaint.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dusk was approaching by the time they emerged refreshed from the TARDIS to retrieve their wayward clothing. They had both taken the time to shower and dress, but neither wanted to leave evidence of the afternoon's activities for the neighbors to find. Racing to pick up his tie before he could reach it, Melissa shrieked happily as he caught her. Chuckling, he twirled her around until she begged to be put down.

"I get dizzy now." She laughed as she sat until the spinning of the ground slowed to a standstill.

Grinning, he pulled her up. "I'll have to remember that the next time we go to a carnival. Can't wait to see you after riding a tilt-a-whirl."

"Funny. Although the way you pilot the TARDIS, I don't have to worry about it." She stuck out her tongue at him.

"Oi! Watch what you say about my ship! She did let you have sex on top of her after all." Catching her in his arms, he kissed her soundly.

Returning his kiss, she asked with a grin, "Think she'd let us do that again?"

"What? Now?"

"Why not?" Untucking his shirt, she kneaded his back.

Groaning in frustration, he pulled her hands away. "We promised to return to the house for dinner, remember?"

"Oh," she responded, mildly deflated. Then, hesitantly, she asked, "Is that now?"

As gently as he could, he said, "It's soon enough that we don't have time for that. In fact, we should be leaving. I know several cardinals who will be arriving early to ask us more questions. They don't trust the High Council to tell the full story."

Picking her shirt off a tree branch, Melissa replied cheekily. "You know, sometimes I think it would be easier to be a dead hero than a live one, much less questions that way."

Immediately realizing what she had said, her face became stricken. "I didn't mean, oh no, not like that. Oh, Jack."

Holding her hand, the Doctor led her into the TARDIS, sitting with her on the jump seat. "You're just tired of answering stupid questions. No one, especially me, could ever think anything else."

Looking into her grief-stricken eyes he confessed, "I wasn't sure when to show you, but Jack made a recording before he left. I think it's time for you to see it."

Not trusting herself to speak, she simply nodded. Taking the sonic screwdriver, he activated the recording, but when he saw that Jack was clothed in jeans and a white t-shirt, he tried to shut it off, saying that it was the wrong one. Wordlessly, she put her hand over the screwdriver; outdated or not, the recording was still him.

"Hi, uh, Melissa," Jack began nervously, but with a smile on his face. She marveled at how young he seemed. "Look, the Doc said I could make this recording in case something happened to me before we get a chance to track down the guy from the school. You know I'd much rather be on Earth with you and Susan and Matthew, but I'm doing okay with Rose and the Doctor. Same old life, always running from one thing or another, but without you it all seems less fascinating than it did before."

He flashed a dazzling grin, and her hearts skipped a beat. "Yeah, okay, don't want to get too sicky sweet, as Matthew says, but if the Doctor saved me and made me a better person, then you're the one that made it all worthwhile. I can't imagine living my life without you, but, well, you know things don't always go according to plan. If you're getting this message, then I'm dead, and I don't want you to spend your whole life mourning. Bad things happen, but life is fantastic, and I hope you live it to the fullest. Tell Susan and Matthew I miss them. Take care, Sleeping Beauty.

Before she could cry out, his image was gone and instantly replaced by another. This Jack was older, although it was difficult to tell by looks alone. His age was noticeable in his eyes and the way he carried himself. He was dressed in his usual clothes, including his greatcoat, and the quality of the recording was such that she wanted to touch him, but that would destroy the illusion. Gripping the Doctor's hand tightly, she watched Jack make his final goodbye.

"Sweetheart, I asked the Doctor to play this recording when he thought you were strong enough to hear it. I know what my death will do to you, and I hate the pain I've caused. But, I don't want you feeling guilty on top of everything else. I chose to go with you, knowing that I would die. Whatever happened wasn't your fault. And I would do it again if it meant keeping you safe. I'm so glad I met you. You and the Doctor take care of each other. I love you both."

This time when the image faded, the TARDIS was silent, the lights dimmed. She sat next to the Doctor, her emotions in turmoil. "He knew?"

Quietly, he tried to explain. "The Arcadian told him a long time ago that you would lead him to true death. Neither one of us knew how nor that he would be used to save Gallifrey, but none of that mattered to Jack. He loved you, Em."

"I thought the Bad Wolf would protect him," she confessed bitterly. "I thought that as her emissary, I couldn't hurt him. But in truth, I've never been anything more than Rassilon's pawn, have I? I've always just been a means to an end."

"Not to me and not to him," he argued fervently. "The Bad Wolf, Rassilon, they don't matter in the end. They aren't you. They didn't make you the woman Jack and I fell in love with. They didn't make you a wonderful mother. They didn't make you fierce and passionate and tenacious and loyal. They didn't make you anything. You are your own person, do you understand?"

She thought about his words. She could sense his conviction as well as his devotion. "After we bring Jack's body back to Torchwood, I'd like to regenerate and spend some time travelling with you. I think it's time I lived my life the way I want to. What do you think?"

"I think Jack would be proud."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Melissa sat nervously on the platform, watching the full Time Lord Council file silently into the vast Panopticon. They were all clothed in white robes, a profound mark of respect considering that Jack had been a human, but then, he had saved the entire planet. Perhaps they merely wore the color of deep mourning to placate the populace, who were still burying the dead from the final battle.

She was not so clothed, and neither was the Doctor, who sat on her left. Both were wearing their normal attire; it seemed more fitting somehow. Staring straight ahead, she finally looked at Jack's body. He had been perfectly preserved, down to the buttons on his greatcoat, and if she so wished, she could momentarily give into the fantasy that he was merely sleeping. But, she no longer wished to deceive herself in that way. Jack was gone, and this ceremony would only be the start of several painful memorials that she and the Doctor would be required to attend.

The most difficult task would be taking his body back to Earth. She wasn't sure how she could face Torchwood, or more specifically, Ianto, when they arrived. Even though Donna had been the one to break the bad news, Melissa knew that his former lover would not accept the truth until he had actually seen Jack's dead body. They had not parted well, and Jack's death would be just another regret to pile on top of the young man's long list of tragedies.

The Doctor took her hand, sending a flash of understanding, support and sympathy in her direction, although she could feel his grief as well. Romana had ascended the platform to conduct the short, but as the Doctor had warned, stuffy, ceremony. At least she had not asked either one of them to speak, although Melissa privately wondered if that was due to empathy for their grief or fear of what they might have said to the entire Time Lord Council.

All too soon, the ceremony had concluded, and she realized that she hadn't heard a word that had been said. She had completely tuned out Romana and whatever platitudes she had offered. Trying her best to ignore Jack's lifeless body, she suddenly perceived a very unwelcome presence, and stood abruptly. Through her, the Doctor felt the same presence, and he, too, was on his feet as a very unwelcome guest blazed into existence on the platform in a haze of golden light.

The Bad Wolf appeared just as she had on the Gamestation, her figure that of a familiar young woman, but her eyes filled with unimaginable power. As the guards made move to restrain her, she held up her hand, freezing them and Romana to the spot. "You are tiny."

"Rose, don't do this!" The Doctor pleaded, hoping that she would listen this time. When she looked at him quizzically, he added softly, "It's over. Jack's gone. Just let him go."

Ignoring him, she addressed the crowd, who was immobile with shock. "I can see all of time and the whole of creation, what was, what is and what could be."

Then, she looked sorrowfully at the Doctor. "And this is why it hurt. I want you, safe, My Doctor, protected from the false gods."

Terrified at what she may yet do, he spoke gently, trying to reason with her. "I am safe, Rose. I am safe here with the Emissary, and safe with you on the parallel Earth. You loved me so much, you saved me twice. Now, just let it go."

"How can I let go of this?"

The Bad Wolf swung her gaze to Melissa, tears falling down her face. "My Emissary. His pawn." Then, she again looked mournfully at Jack. "My knight. His sacrifice. But it should not hurt."

That simple statement sent chills down the Doctor's spine. What was an immature, benevolent god truly capable of? He could feel Melissa's terror bubbling to the surface as they felt the Bad Wolf focus her attention on the three of them.

"I bring life."

"Rose, NO!" the Doctor yelled, supporting his bond mate as her knees buckled. He watched in dismay as the powerful being continued placidly as if he had never interrupted.

"And everlasting death to the Doctor's most faithful companion."

Then, she was gone. The entire assembly looked in stunned amazement at the spot where the Bad Wolf had stood before breaking out in raucous murmurings. Simultaneously, Captain Jack Harkness gasped back to life, sitting up and looking around in confusion.

As he caught the Doctor's eyes, he asked in consternation, "Someone going to tell me why I'm on a bier?"

* * *

><p>**Giving Credit Where Credit is Due**<p>

All recognizable dialogue spoken by the Bad Wolf is, of course, taken from _Parting of the Ways_


End file.
